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A MOTHER'S CURSE. 



An American Drama. 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



-WRITTEN FOR- 



CYRUS B. LAMBERT, 



-BY 



JAMES W. LONG, 



Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 

1889, BY Cyrus B. Lambert, in the Office of 

THE Librarian of Congress, 

Washington, D. C. 



PUBLISHED BY 

WEST MIC EIG AN FEINTING CO., 

GRAND BAPIDS, MICH., 

For C. B. Lambert, to whom all proprietary rights belong". 



8 g. J1 JtJt Jt. Jt.JK.JT.J K L. ': 



A MOTHER'S CURSE. 



An American Drama. 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



WRITTEN FOR- 



CYRUS B. LAMBERT. 



-BY 



JAMES W. LON 




Entered According to Act of Congress, in the Year 

1889, BY Cyrus B. Lambert, in the Office of 

the Librarian of Congress, 

Washington, D. C. 



PUBLISHED BY 

WEST MICHIGAN PRINTING CO., 

GRAND RAPIDS, MICH., 

For C. B. Lainhert, to whom all proprietary riorhts belong. 



T543 



r 



Z 



1 



0-A.ST oip oh:.a.i^jv.otek.s. 



Capt. Chas. Yincent — An officer in the Commissary De- 
partment, U. S. A. 

Major Eobert Taylor, U. S. A. 

Hiram Dawson — A Government Detective. 

Patrick Flavan — An old family servant in the Yincent 
family, and a native of the " auld sod." 

Prof. Lighter — An sereonaut. 

Policeman, etc. 

Alice Yincent — Mother 'of Charles Yincent. 

Grace Yincent — Wife of Charles Yincent. 

Lottie Yincent — Daughter of e/harles Yincent. 

Nellie Gordon — Cousin and accomplice to Major Taylor. 

Meg Marineau — A gypsey fortune teller. 

Mary Doiiavan — A good looking Irish girl, nurse to Lottie 
Yincent, full of intrigue and to whom Pat Flavan 
jist takes off his hat, you know. 

Chorus, etc. 



A MOTHER'S CURSE. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Parlor in home of Alice Vincent. To^B. piano 
near flat. To L. Divan and around the stage parlor 
furniture. To L,, near fronts a table at which sitting 
Charles Viyicent is discovered as curtain rises. 
Vincent. — Heighho!^ what is life after all? The past 
we know and can see how many mistakes could have been 
corrected. The present we enjoy, or endure, and often- 
times repeat the same mistakes we have once regretted. 
But the future? {rises and advances to center of stage). Oh! 
the future is to all of us a garden of flowers. Who ever 
plants seeds of unhappiness in the garden of the future? 
Who ever, with their pencils, paints a cloud in the sky of 
the future? Who ever draws upon the alchemy of nature 
for a pain in the future ? Who ever imagines a heart ache 
in the future? Oh, happy Arcadia! you begin with the 
cradle, and end only with eternity, with its clouds rose- 
tinted, by your happy hopes and predictions. Why should 
we do this? We are borrowing from the future every day, 
and destroying its hopes by the irresistable logic of the 
present. Hopes die for want of fruition. Golden prom- 
ises fade away, unfulfilled, and death ends all. But a truce 
to this. I will drive away dull forebodings with a song. 
(Sings: "It is strange, etc.) 

SONG. 

It is strang-e that the joy of happy hours 
Should be marred by the chill of a blighted trust; 

It is strange, that the beauty of the flowers 
Should but end in a mixture with silent dust. 

Oh, where are the hopes and the loves; where the tears. 
That lived with our lives, and that tempered life's gales; 

It is strange they have faded with the years 
And becalmed we are lying with empty sails. 

Vincent (speaks). Well, away with this feelinq:. I have 



A MOTHER S CUE8E. 



of pQpularity that will elect me to oifice. I will be the 
people's choice. What is to prevent it? (Eises and walks 
from E. to L. across stage. ) First, lawyer, then Prosecu- 
ting Attorney, then to the Legislature, then to Congress, 
then a Senator; but hold on; I must be a Circuit Judge 
first, then Senator. Then what is to prevent me from being 
President? With all this I will have the smiles of fair 
women at my beck and fortune will smile on me, (Enters 
at back Meg Marineau who advances toivards Vincent) 
and I will be her favored child. ( Discovers Marineau. ) 
Hello! my picturesque gypsy, from what forest do you 
come ? 

« 

Marineau — Let me tell your fortune, my gallant gentle- 
man. 

Vincent (holding out his hand, laughing) — Oh well, give 
me the best you have. ( Marineau 'takes his hand and 
looks intently at it. ) 

Marineau. — No lines cross; an even life; a dexter line 
the broadest; a happy life. Honors, riches, everything 
that heart could wish for. 

Vincent (laughing). — That is worth a dollar anyway. 
Here, my good woman (Hands her a silver dollar, and 
then holds out his hand again, which Marineau takes in 
hers, looks at it and starts as if alarmed. ) 

Marineau (hastily and quickly. )-The lines have changed. 
The blue blood has faded from the dexter line and gone to 
the sinister. The lines are crossed. The blood is purple 
and betokens trouble. Ah, the crossed lines are filling. 
One near and dear to you has cursed you and invoked mal- 
edictions upon your head. The blood is receding. You 
will die by the hand of an assassin. 

Vinceyit (angrily). — Begone! bird of evil omen. You 

have your money. Now go and hide it. (Marineau shrinks 

away towards doors in flat followed by Vincent. As she 

exits Pat Flavan enters with letters, which he hands to 

Vincent ) 

Pat. — And who the divil is that craft, mister Charles? 
She looks like a cross between a barber's pole and a circus 
rider. 

Vincent (tearing open letter). — Oh, that is a gypsy for- 
tune teller, Pat. She has put me out a little by prognos- 
ticating too much bad luck for me. I have been cursed 
by one who is near and dear to me, and am going to be 
killed by an assassin. (Looks at letter as he taJks.) 

Pat — Niver ye fear, Mister Charles. As long as Pat 
Flavan can ate three square meals a day it will niver do 
for any one'to swear forninst to yes, nor to assassinate you 



A mother's cuese. 



neitlier. I'm cork pine, ten lo^s to the tree, and sold for 
one hundred and twenty dollars a thousand. 

Vincent. — I always knew that you were a lumbering 
kind of a fellow, Pat. But I thank you for your honest 
offer of guardianship. (Aside.) A letter with a good offer 
in it for me to go to New York. I will go and answer it , 
at once. {ExiUhrough L door.) 

Pat — -I have been thinking a good deal lately about the 
mutability of human affairs. There is Bridget O'Connor. 
Oh, my ! but she is swate wid her rosy cheeks, black eyes 
and lips like a blood beet. I call her a human affair. She 
is mutability, too, for I asked Mister Charles what it meant 
and he told me it was orny thing that changed. Bridget 
has changed; she loved me once on a time, but now she 
has gone back on me. 

Song — "She has gone back on me." 

But I must go back to my work no w. Bridget can go with 
her new love and I'll — I'll — what will I do? I'll hunt for 
a new one wid all the charms of a Yenus. {Exit at door 
at back.) 

(Enter at L Vincent.) 

Vincent. — I have written to my friend that I will accept 
his offer. Why should I stay here in idleness? Other 
men have gone out into the wide world and have been the 
better for a few rousjh knocks. Why should I not do the 
same? Besides, my life here is not exactly Elysian (shrugs 
his shoulders and laughs). Given, a premises. I love a 
fair young maiden, who also smiles upon me. Madam 
Mere does not smile upon the match, and Lulu and I can- 
not marry, for, unfortunately, my mama holds the purse 
strings, and she will not open the receptacle of wealth ex- 
cept at her own sweet pleasure, and it is not her own sweet 
pleasure to open it for this occasion. (Laughs.) She 
wants me to marry a perpendicular, acidulous accident of 
wealth and extreme respectability, which I decline to do, 
having never had any experience in making love to an ice- 
berg. Ah! I hear my mother's footsteps. I will be pro- 
priety itself. (Seats himself on divan. As he does so, en- 
ter Alice Vincent, who advances and takes seat at table. 
Vincent rises as his mother enters arid bows to her; then 
remmes his seed. ) 

Alice V. — Ah, my son! as years advance I hope to see 
you become more dignified, and I can already see an im- 
provement. Now one thing I must suggest. Try, some 
occupation to keep you busy. Work that is not ignoble. 

CJiarles V, — Just the thing, my dear madame, I have 



A MOTHEE S CUESE. 



been thinking about. Work is the very thing that I need, 
for as it is, I am spoiling for exercise. You will not sanc- 
tion my ma rriage with Lu . 

Mrs. V. (angrily).— Excuse me for interrupting you. 
No! I will not sanction your sacrifice of a splendid posi- 
tion to the fancied charms of a round doll face. If you 
would lay seige to the heart of Abigail Springer now — 

( Charles shudders. ) 

Why that shudder? {Rising and facing her son). I tell 
you what boy, that I do not even hope that she would say 
you yea, but still she might. Women you know are fool- 
ish at times, and sometimes allow a passing fancy to run 
away with their judgment. There you would have wealth 
and position. {Sloioly as she ivalks Ijackwards and forwards.) 
Over their door, cut into the stone is a coat of arms. It is 
English, and belongs to them by lineage and hereditary. 
Blue blood runs in their veins, and if Abigail would only 
smile on you, I would be as happy as a woman with a bro- 
ken heart can be. But you prefer a plebian, whose only 
merit is a pretty face and a tongue to prattle platitudes. 
{Advancing to him and raising her hand threateningly.) 
Here you defy me, boy! I will be just to you. You have 
never given me an unkind word, but now you concentrate 
a whole life of loyalty in one single act of defiance. ( Goes 
to table and seais herself. Vincent rises and goes toward 
her, and as he speaks, places one hand on the hack of her 
chair. During his speech she leans her elbow on table and 
her chin on her hand. ) 

Charles. — Mother, you accuse me unjustly! As God is 
my helper, I would not marry Abigail Springer, should 
she, on her knees ask me to, and back it up with two pages 
of pedigree in the Herald's college and a wagon, loaded 
with gold. 

Alice Vin. {Looking up quickly and angrily). No, you 
prefer a low, base-born girl, with a pretty face. {Resumes 
former position. ) 

Charles V. — Let me finish, mother. I have never con- 
tradicted you yet, nor will I now, but let me describe a love 
match to you. The woman may not be equal to the man, 
but what man ever draws an equation, Avith a pair of soft, 
white arms around his neck, a warm kiss from sweet lips, 
and a love light in beautiful soft eyes, beaming only for 
him. The man may be inferior to th> wo^na : 'n ^ ^ ' 
stances he is. She onlv covers hi^^ shor^c^m'n ^•-- -" 
beautiful, bri<?ht-colored robe oflovin Of eha it 
hid the darkness of the cross on Calvary. Ar t1i<" e 
pie unhappy? {Lea/ves chair and adrrf ■ >■ 



A motheb's curse. ? 



stage partly facing his mother. ) Ask those who go with- 
out necessities? They will tell you, no! Love gilds a cot- 
tage, where hate or indifference make hideous the gilded 
Griffins upon the walls of the palace. ( Changing his tone 
to one of pleasantry). But mother, I have news for you! 
and no doubt but that it will be good news. I will give up 
Lulu, since you demand it, but 1 will not marry your aris- 
tocratic Griffin. I am going away to try my fortune. Have 
received a letter offering me a fine opening, and while I 
am gone, I shall travel awhile. Does this meet with favor 
from you? 

Alice V. — (Sarcastically.) Distasteful to me? How 
kind in you to ask. No, it is not. (Louder.) No! you 
may go and try your fortune. Perhaps when you try the 
world awhile you will be better satisfied at home. 

Vincent. — ( Coldly. ) Madame, I will not longer trespass 
on your^hospitality. As you say I will go and try the world. 
Allow me to bid you adieu. ( Raises her hand to his lips 
and then exits through door. lie turns and lookn towards 
Alice Vincent as if he would come back, hut she not notic- 
ing him, he disappears. ) 

Alice V. — (Seating herself at table and leaning her elbow 
on table she clasps her hands. ) He is gone, and I have 
been unkind and perhaps unjust to him, but I cannot love 
him as I should. His father was untrue to me — I was true 
to him. He was a faithless husband — with one woman 
named Taylor that I know of. I was a faithful wife Oh! 
in the annals of domestic history, how many records like 
this could be written? I knew of my desolation before 
my boy was born, and on my knees — before my Heavenly 
father — I prayed that his whole life might be accursed for 
his father's sake, and that I might die in giving him birth. 
His father is dead, but curses, like lightning, fly on the 
wings of space. My prayer was, that I might di© and the 
father live, grow up and disgrace him the same that my 
husband did for me. (Slowly rising she paces the stage 
near front from L to R.) I was a happy woman, until my 
husband met this Mrs. Taylor. I am not handsome, I 
know, but I was true. I do not know that I hated her, for 
an innocent woman' is at a terrible disadvantage in the 
hands of a scoundrel whose business is seduction, unless 
she is of that type of womanhood that shines with a direct 
glory. His plans were well laid and she fell, and after 
that, all the attention I received from him, was simply be- 
cause I belonged to the animal kingdom. 



§ A MOTHEE's CtJKSE. 

SCENE CLOSES. 

Scene 2 — A street in Detroit. Enter from R. ' Vincent 
followed hy Pat Flavan carrying a valise. 

Pat — {Looking at the scene). Horray! Here is the first 
station! Woodward Avenue Depot! ' Across the river and 
away over Canaday to New York and Newburgh. 

Vincent. — Yes, this is the first station, Pat, Woodward 
Avenue. How often will I think of it, when I am away. 
Its beautiful surroundings and everything connected with 
it. But Pat! you can wait here awhile, while I replenish 
my cigar case, or rather you can meet me at the Central 
depot. [Exit at left). 

Pat — Yes, I'll meet him at the depot, or the day po, or 
the de-po, just as he likes. Its strange that, payple don't 
call it station, and thin they would all say it alike. Over 
in old Ireland, they all say station. So when a man starts 
to travel everybody knows he's going on a journey. God 
bless old Ireland! Its a daisy of a country and I'm proud 
to say that I'm an Irish lad. Whin I makes a mistake, 
everybody laughs and says, Oh! that's all right! he's 
Irish. — (Sings.) 

Song. 

It's Irish I am and I want you to know, 

I'm Irish all over and not very slow. 

I'm proud of old Ireland, the home of my sires, 

I'm proud of her altars, though dimmed are their fires. 

I have a kind master, 
'(Spoken) I'm Irish you know; 

I'll never desert him, 
(Spoken) I'm Irish, 'tis so, 

I'm Irish all over, a brave Irishman, 
I'll have all the fun and the mischief I can, 
I belong to the red- headed Irish from Cork; 
I'll be as much Irish when I reach New York. 
And none shall abuse me, for lick him I can; 
I'm Irish, from Ireland, a full Irishman. 

Now that song expresses my sentiment in Irish. If you 
call a man an Englishman, it is no name to call him at all. 
If you call him an American, he takes it like so much taf- 
fy. If you call him a Frenchman, he grins, and if you call 
him a Dutchman, he is so pleased that he goes and drinks 
another glass of lager, but call him an Irishman and he 
wants to fight. I'll not be so. Whin they call me Irish, 
I'll take off my hat and say: "Thank your honor for the 
compliment." But I must go, or the depot will be gone to 
New York. [Exits.'] 



A motheb's cukse. 9 



Scene III. — Major Robert Taylor's Parlor at Newhurg. 
As scene changes Major Taylor and Nellie Gordon 
are discovered. Nellie is sitting in a chair ne:ir cen- 
ter of stage, over tvhich Taylor is bending. 
Taylor — As yon say, cousin Nellie, he is rather prepos- 
sessing, and if yon will pardon a compliment per se, I will 
say that you are not bad looking. So the path will be easy 
for yon to accomplish my pnrpose. 

Xellie {loolcing up at Taylor). — Tell me, Eobert, exact- 
ly what yon want me to do. 

Taylor {sitting down on lounge). — I want yon to do 
fchis, Nellie. Weave a web aronnd this man Vincent nntil 
yon have him in love with yon, and consequently nnder 
yonr control. Hold yonr power with a high hand, so that 
yon can nse him as / say. 

Kellie. — How in the world came yon to pick np this ac- 
quaintance and friend? 

Taylor. — Why, yon remember the large political meet- 
ing held here a few weeks ago? Well, while I was stand- 
ing there listening to the speeches, I noticed a tall, finely 
formed man in the crowd who seemed to be a stranger. 
Chance threw us together, and chance started a conversa- 
tion. I found out that his name was Vincent, and that he 
was thinking of settling in New York. After the speech 
w^e went to a restaurant for a bite of supper, and over a 
bottle of wine he told me of some troubles, and that he was 
a knight-errant on the highway of life. He also showed 
me letters of introduction from those whom I knew, hav- 
ing become acquainted with them while I was stationed in 
Detroit, in fifty-seven. Well, one thing led to another, 
and I finally asked him to stay with me and try army life 
for a while, to which he consented. He suits me exactly. 
He is quick and capable, and every day I like him better. 
Now you have the story of our acquaintainship. 

Jyellie. — It is strange that you should make this friend 
in this way. His name alone is not a good omen. A man 
named Vincent was the cause of a great many heart-aches 
to all of us, and this man looks like him. Supposing that 
he should be a son or relative of him who once caused so 
much trouble. Such things have happened, and should 
this be so, this man may prove to be a source of further 
evil to you. 

Taylor. — Never fear that. There were no sons in that 
family that I ever heard of. {Suddenly.) Nellie, I am in 
trouble and yon must help me out. I wish to nse this man 
as a tool, not to have him nse me, and yon, sweet coz., can 
aid me. Only do as I suggest and all will be well, with 



10 A MOTHEE's CUllSE. 



prosperity in store for me, and when I am prosperous you 
shall be taken care of. 

Mellie. — But how about Grace, Robert? You must know 
that when she becomes your wife that no roof that shelters 
her can be over my head. 

Taylor. — Oh, pshaw! never mind Grace. 

Kellie. — But I do mind her. She will be your wife and 
will look with a jealous eye at our peculiar relations. Of 
course I am your housekeeper and your cousin, but sJie 
will then be your housekeeper and cousinship will be con- 
fined strictly to that relationship. She will be delighted 
at an occasional short visit {laughing) . She will not leave 
us together much, Bobert. She will be a very devoted 
hostess and will never leave me. {Laug'hs.) 

Taylor (as if mttled). — Pshaw! Grace Montfort is not 
my wife yet, and when she is, / will say what shall, and 
what shall not be done. If / say I w^ish you to stay, you 
shall stay. {Gonfidentially.) ]Nel]ie,,what if I should 
not marry Grace at all? 

Kellie {laugliing). — Oh, Bobert, you are one of the most 
fickle of men. Not marry Grace? You do not dare to 
say so to her. 

Taylor {scowling). Yes, I do dare; and should I wish 
to, you may have the privilege of hearing me say it. But 
she is coming here to-night, and so is Yincent. I asked 
him over to have a game of cards. Come to think of it, 
I must away to my toilet. {Rises.) Alas! poor men, they 
must always be fixing t|iemselves up, while as for the dear 
delightful women they always look like angels. {:>ls Tie 
says the last lie walks hehind Nellie's cliair, and as Tie 
concludes Tie pulls Tier Tiead hacTc wards by putting Tiis 
hands under Tier chin and Tcisses her. Then exits tTirough 
door in L.) 

Kellie {looTcing^ after him). — Well, Mr. Impudence, 
good bye ; that is, if you have gone. I will try and do the 
bidding, if it will help out my bonnie cousin. ( TaTces a 
coguetiisTi position on lounge, cTianging position of Tiands- 
and patting and seemingly arranging her hair. ) Let us 
see, I must look pre-occupied. {Slowly. ) How does a lady 
look when she is pre-occupied. {Rests Tier cTiin on her 
hands. ) This is the way. So now I am ready for Sir 
Charles the Yincent of Yincentville, town of Yincentburg, 
county Yincentminster. {:/l hell is heard. ) Oh, there he 
is! my fate, my fate, my life, my love. ( Takes a hook from 
table and pretends to read. ) 

{Enter from Hat Vincent, wTio seeing Kellie advances 
smiling. Kellie rises and holds out her Tiand whicTi he 
takes.) 



A mother's curse. 11 



Xellit' — Good evening, Mr. Vincent. This is indeed a 
pleasure. Take this seat, please. {Hands Mm a chair on 
which lie sits down, and seats herself near him.) You 
have made yourself quite a stranger since your stay in 
Newburgh. 

Vincent — I have only to apologize by saying that noth- 
ing but duty would have made me have missed so much 
pleasure as your society. 

Kel'lie {coguettislily). — A flatterer, Mr. Vincent. With 
your splendid physique, I would not have thought it of 
you. 

Vincent. — A reproof so gilded with a compliment, that I 
thank you for it. 

Mellie. — How a reproof? 

Vincent — By the insinuation that a perfect manhood, 
and admiration of the fair sex are incompatible. 

Kellie {coldly.) — Where then the compliment, if I may 
be so bold as to ask? 

Vincent — The ^'^^^d^A physique. You know, I suppose 
that men are inordinately vain. 

Kellie. — I did .not. {Slowly). I have always supposed 
where so much perfection existed, that the consciousness of 
its possession, excluded vanity, especially wben those who 
might be disposed to attack this impregnable fortress are 
so weak. 

Vincent {aside)' — I have nettled her a little, but by Jove 
she is not bad looking. {Moud). Miss Gordon do not 
crush me with sarcasm. I will make an apology broad 
enough to cover all my offendings. 

Meilie {smiling). I will accept the apology made so 
handsomely, and in granting forgiveness will add that I do 
not think you very much of a sinner. But seriously speak- 
ing. Captain Vincent, I have become somewhat interested 
in you, and should you not think it impertinent, I should 
like to know something of your past life. 

Vincent {carelessly and waving his hand.) Oh, I sup- 
pose that I am a black sheep. My mother is a very pecu- 
liar woman, and although she is wealthy and I am her heir, 
here I am, out in the world, making my own living and not 
asking her for a copper cent. 

Meilie {earnestly.) — Was she unkind to you? 

Vinceni {laughing.) — No — but if she had been, your 
genuine iuterest in me would repay me for a great many 
acts of unkindness from ma mere. 

Xellie {confusedly.)— ^^cvi^Q me. I did not mean to 
be bold. 

Vincent — Not bold, I never would think that {Sighing). 
Women create an equipoise in this world. If one breaks 



12 A mother's curse. 



a man's heart, some other daughter of Eve, will become 
both his champion and comforter. {Earnestly. ) But Miss 
Gordon I am sincerely obliged to you for your interest in 
me and I assure you that I shall endeavor to deserve it. — 
{Bell rings, Mellie rises. ) 

Kellie — There comes the rest of the company. Miss 
Monfort, I must go and receive her. I will not be absent 
long, and for a short while I will crave your indulgence. 

Vincent — Walling with Jier to door z/ZT^^r.— Certainly, 
but make your absence as short as possible. {Exit JSfellie 
through door in fiat. Vincent walks towards front oj 
stage, rubhing his hands. ) 

Vincent — Why not? A trim little figure, pleasant face, 
ordinarily accomplished no doubt, and a good housekeeper. 
Why not? She on one side of a fire place, looking very 
prettily, I on the other side. She at the head of my table 
presiding with womanly grace. Why not? {Tales seat 
and leans arm on table. ) It is strange what a sense of 
superiority, the possession of a woman gives a man. After 
all it is strength playing with weakness; but the weakness 
is only physical, for in moral force they are stronger than 
any man. But how beautiful and enchanling they are. A 
taper waist, fair features, laughing eyes, a tempting mouth, 
pink ears, white, pearly teeth, delicate hands — but I will 
have to stop or people will think I am giving the pointers 
on a blooded horse. {Enters from door in flat unob- 
served G-r ace Monfort, kellie Gordon and Major Taylor). 
But if I have bad luck with Venus, I am sure of Mammon 
for I will have my mother's thousands. 

Major Taylor — Ahem! {Vincent starts and looks 
around discovering the trio. He appears confused, Tay- 
lor laughs. ) Allow me Captain to break into your romantic 
reverie. You are acquainted with my cousin Miss Gordon. 
( Crosses over and takes Miss Monforfs hand and leads 
her up to Vincent ) I v/ill now make your life addition- 
ally happy by introducing to you, my very dear friend, 
Miss Monfort. 

Vincent — {taking Grace' s hand in his, and holding it) 
It gives me great pleasure to meet with my dear friends. 
I hope Miss Monfort that you will inscribe my name 
among those entitled to your kind thoughts. 

Grace Monfort — {withdrawing her hand.)—! most cer- 
tainly shall Captain Yincent, for a previous predilection 
based on say-so from Major Taylor is only confirmed by a 
personal view. 

Vincent {aside). — Bless me, but I must be a regular 
masher. 



A mothee's cuese. 13 



{During iJie foregoing, Mllie Gordon has deen husy fix- 
ing the table and placing cards thereon. Major Taylor 
helps her to move the taUe to centre and towards front of 
stage, Vincent and Alice turn towards table and Vincent 
walks to back of stage and brings chair to table). 

:)ilice {aside.)— His motlier's thousands and he the heir. 
Unloved by Major Taylor, I will try my hand on the heir 
to his mother's thousands. 

Taylor. — Come Grace, don't indulge in a brown study 
now. Here Nellie, I wilPassign you as Vincent's partner 
while Grace and I will try and beat you. 

Alice — I believe in every one for themselves. Let us 
play Pedro, and then each one is independent. 

Taylor— Agreed. {They seat themselves, Alice next to 
Vincent and J\ ellie opposite, and Taylor throws round 
for the deal, ) You have the deal, sweet Grace. Now give 
me a good hand. {Alice deals.) 

Vincent {looking at his ha?id).—Tll ^ive two. 

Taylor—Three ! 

Mllie—'FiYe ! 

Alice — Save your hearts. 

Vincent— IIow can we, with two charmers, to make your 
warning an impossibility. 

Taylor {laughing as tliey discard, calls their cards 
and Alice deals them) — Look here Yincent, are you going 
to demolish me with your compliments in the house of my 
fathers ? 

Vi7icent ■{playing)—Yo-u. surprise me, {Enter Mary 
Donovan with tray on which is champagne and cake. ) 

Taylor— hei us stop and worship at the shrine of Bac- 
chus! {Takes bottle and fills glasses, while Mary hands 
round the cake.) ' ■ 

G-race {taking glass and looking steadily at Taylor).— 
This is champagne. It is intoxicating. Do you wish me 
to drink it, Robert? 

Taylor— OiaoMrsel do. Such nonsense. Champagne 
is drank in the most fashionable society and on all occa- 
sions. 

Grace~T\\ei\ of course, you are willing that I should drink 
it. /tell you that it is intoxicating. Jou say that itis 
the custom in fashionable society to drink it. As I under- 
stand^ you, we must sacrifice our conviction to the usa- 
ges of society. 

Taylor {haug?itily)—Yes, that is it. Ladies, my kind- 
est regards. {Tliey all drinh ) 

{During this time they have been playing, and as the 
conversation ends the deal is out. ) ' 



14 A mother's cuese. 

Grace {counting Tier liand). Pedro five, game six, Jack 
seven, low eight. Count me eight Captain Vincent, if you 
please. 

Vincent — ( talces out paper and marks. ) 

Vincent {as he takes the cards and shuffles them). 
Nothing gives me more pleasure, Miss Montfort than to 
record a victory for you. {Taylor picks up hottle and 
fills glasses, then hands them aroujid.) 

Alice { looking at Taylor) — Kobert, is it your wish that I 
take more of this? 

Taylor — Certainly, or I would not have offered it to you. 
{TJiey all drink. ) {Vincent is dealing). 

Taylor — Five. 

Kellie — I pass. 

Klice — Six. 

Vincent {laughing) — I'll pass. You must wish to unde- 
mine the Major. 

( Vincent deals out cards after discard. They play.) 

Taylor. — Mary, go and bring another bottle of cham- 
pagne. 

Grace {reproachfully). — Eobert, do we need any more? 

Taylor — Yes; what we have taken is but an appetizer. 
Go. {Exit Mary.) 

Grace. — Pedro, ^yQ\ jack, six; game, seven; low, eight. 
Captain Yincent, will you write down my victory? 

Vincent. — Certainly. Here, Major, are the cards. ( Hands 
them to Major Taylor who deals. While he is dealing 
enter Mary with another hottle of champagne, whic'h Ma- 
jor Taylor pours out, filling glasses and he drinks. ) 

Taylor {as lie deals, showing the signs of intoxication. ) 
— Yincent can you not give us your heroic on the "Glori- 
ous Yintage of champagne ?"^ 

Xellie — Had you not better deal the cards, Robert? 

Taylor — We can do both, I will deal the cards, and Yin- 
cent can sing. So here goes. ( Deals — Music — Glorious 
Vintage of champagne — Satanella Balfe. jit the conclu- 
sion of the song, the players take up their hands. ) 

Kellie {looking spitefully at :^lice) — Seven. 

Grace — Eight. 

Vincent — I'll pass. 

Grace — Delightful man. Always considerate. 

Taylor {moodily) — I'll pass. 

{Taylor deals cards around after discard. They play.) 

Grace — Pedro, five ; low ? 

Keliie — I have low. 

Grace — Jack? 

Taylor {savagely.) I have Jack. 

Grace — High. 



A mothee's curse. 15 



Vincent — Allow me to contribute my high to your gen- 
eral result. 

Grace {Jiesitatingly .) — I guess I am eight on the other 
side. {Earnestly^. Captain Yincent I had rather have 
you mark my failure than any one else. 

Taylor {savagely.) May I ask why? Mary some cham- 
pagne. (Mary hands champagne, which Vincent drinks 
and the rest take cake. ) 

Taylor (aside). See how Nellie stands it. She is sea- 
soned. 

Nellie (to Grace spitefully). You can now see Miss 
Monfort, that diamonds representing wealth does -not al- 
ways triumph over hearts, and you know what they rep- 
resent. 

Grace (ivhile Nellie is dealing). But diamonds and 
hearts make a pretty good combination, don't they, Captain 
Yincent? 

Vincent — Always, my dear lady. 

Taylor (to Vincent) — Could you not have said. Miss 
Monfort, instead of my dear lady. 

Grace (haughtily). I prefer the latter appellation. 

Taylor — Pardon me, for my suggestion. Mary, serve 
the wine. (He drinks.) 

Grace (picking up her cards) — Three. 

Vincent — I'll be gallant and pass. 

Taylor — Eight. 

Grace ( laughing, ) — Oh, eight or fate. 

Taylor — Yes, madame; that is what I mean. 

Grace — If you are that positive now, what will you be 
when you are married. 

Taylor— 1 will be more positive, madame! 

(rrace— Madame ? — Captain Yincent, you would make a 
delightful husband, you are always so polite. 

Vincent — I would cheerfully serve in that capacity. 

Nellie (spitefidly) — That is, I suppose if you were asked 
to. Sometimes gentlemen do things for an accommodation, 
through gallantry, that common sense would dictate to 
them to object to and refuse compliance with. 

(During this they play. ) 

Taylor (counting his hand) — Pedro, five; high, six; low, 
seven; game, eight — side, ped.ro, five, thirteen. It seems as 
if assertioii wins. 

Vincent (earnestly) — Not in the end. Major. (Nellie 
takes the cards and deals.) 

Taylor — Yes, in the end Mary bring some of the Bur- 
gundy. (Exit Mary. They take up their cards.) 

Grace — {looking at her hand). Ten. I will try assertion 
awhile. 



16 A mother's curse. 



Vincent — I am a gentle-man, so I'll pass. 

Taylor — Gallantry and safety v/ill keep me quiet. {En- 
ier Mary ivHh tray on which are two bottles). Taylor 
drinks and the rest touch their glasses ajid set them doivn. ] 

Nellie {moodily^. I will pass. I liacl rather try treach- 
ery than assertion. It is safer. ^The cards are . dealt. 
They cdl play.^ ^During the play, Taylor makes another 
sign to Mary ivho advnces with the tray. Taylor pours 
Old a glass for himself. ] 

Taylor [huskily']. A toast to my fiancee Miss Monfort, 
who bets on assertion. 

Grace — Excuse me sir. If in your own house I am sub- 
jected to insult, I am fortunate in having o, gentleman ^tq^- 
ent, who I know will protect me. Captain Vincent, can 
I ask you to escort me home? 

Vincent — Most certainly. Miss Monfort, [rising.] 

Taylor [rising] — I may have something to say about 
this. 

Vincent [laying his hand on Taylor's shoulder). No 
Major, you will not have a word to say about this. I am 
responsible for what I say and do, and to-morrow I wdll 
explain all to you, when you are more reasonable, [draw- 
ing himself up. ] To-night, Miss Monfort has asked me to 
escort her home. I may not get through, but I am going 
to start, and I would not advise any one to stand in my 
path. 

[Grace exits through door in flat, hut soon reappears 
with her wraps on]. 

Grace — Good night, Nellie! Good night, Kobert! I 
hope in the morning, that you will be in better spirits. 
Captain Vincent, I am ready. [Exit Vincent and Alice.] 

Taylor — Well, Nellie, what do you think of that? 

Nellie — {scornfully). I think that you have tried to 
make a fool of yourself and that you have succeeded most 
admirably, {yawning) but I believe I will go to bed. Do 
you Avant Mary any more? She is about half asleep. 

Taylor — {savagely). You can go to your room. When 
I am through with Mary I will let her know [Exit Nellie 
through door in left smiling superciliously.] Mary, bring 
me a bottle of brandy! 

Mary — ( standing as if as leep. ) Sir ! 

Taylor — A bottle of brandy. Do you hear? [Exit 
Mary. Taylor seats himself by table]. Strange dreams 
come over me to-night. [Looks at bottle on table.] Ha! a 
little Burgundy. [Drinks.] A child's face! [Enters 
Mary unth brandy, ivhicJi she sets on table]. You can go 
to bed now, Mary. 

Mary — Thank you sir. [Exits.] 



A mother's cuese. 17 



Taylor — {drinks from brandy bottle^ Champagne, Bur- 
gundy and Brandy. An exliilirating compound, but not 
half so exciting as a dead child's face. My God! can I 
never outlive this, or must my punishment come in a forc- 
ed marriage to a little doll-faced girl whom I do not love. 
Grace would make me a good wife. She would read the 
old Testament through the first six months of the year, 
and the balance of the year would be devoted to the new 
Testament. She is good. But I had rather have Nellie 
with her wickednesss and brains, than the other with her 
goodness and nothing else. But the dead child — ( drinks ) 
this will drown her memory. Little Nellie, with her sev- 
enty-five thousand dollars. My sweet little neice left to 
my care and Guardianship. ( Walks up and doivn stage 
wringing his hands. ) Gambling and fast life did me up. 
I was unlucky with cards and lucky with women. Both 
being very expensive. I did not mean to use her money ; I 
first took some of it to replace some government funds I 
had used. I lost that, and took more, and finally most of 
it went, {Goes to table, sits down. ) Oh, little Nellie, you 
come back to me to-night with your sweet face, as you used 
to sit upon my knee to tell Uncle Robert how much you 
loved him. ( Rises and faces the stage ) The money went 
and the day of settlement approached, when 1 had to show 
my accounts, {slowly and in subdued voice). In case of 
Nellie's death, I was her heir. Fear drove me to a crime. 
There are drugs that poison slowly, and to save myself, I 
gave them to her, while she would look up into my face 
with her dancing eyes, and thank me for the nice lemon- 
ade. {Faces the audience at center and places his hands on 
his head. Oh, my God! when I think of it, it turns all the 
glories of a hope in heaven into the dispair of a remorse- 
less hell. She died! {laughs hystericcdly) and no one 
knows how, but myself. ( Walks across the stage back- 
luard and forwards hanging his head, ivith his hands lock- 
ed behind hi)}i.) The money was all gone and I was her 
heir. I had to do it or perish myself. I am not a bad 
man — only a weak one. The world is full of such men. 
Withall the intentions of heaven in their hearts, the result 
of all their efforts is an apothesis of hell. I wonder if, 
at the last day, our great Judge will take this into consid- 
eration. Knowing what we meant to do — knowing what 
our heart beats were — knowing how weak we were, will he 
judge us by our intentions or the result? {Goes to the 
table and pours out liquor. ) But a truce to this {Drinks. ) 
I am again in arrears, and I am going to use this Vincent 
to help me out. {Laughs. ) To-morrow I shall apologize 
to my dear Grace and of course be forgiven. I shall ex- 



18 A mother's curse. 



plain to Vincent and use him. (Suddenly). Why can't I 
marry Grace to him and then have Nellie Gordon to my- 
self. I'll do it. After all it is a contest between despera- 
tion backed by brains and an unsuspecting dupe, ( laughs 
as he pours out liquor). I wonder how many bottles of 
liquor I've drank to-night, but I'me steady. Here's to 
brains — they always win they're better than money, posi- 
tion or anything else. Here's to brains. 

[ Curtain. ] 

End of Act 1st. 

ACT II. 

Scene I — Sitting room in Taylor's House — To hack of 
stage two single doors I and r of center. The left door 
is open — To right a hay window with lace curtains di- 
vans, tahle, escritoire, etc. 

[^Enters from left door in flat Nellie Gordon.^ 

Nellie — Poor Robert, I fear his hours are numbered, as 
the doctor seems to think there is no hope. Fate seems 
against me. ( Sits on divan to I. ) With his death will end 
my living here, and I have lost Captain Yincent who is 
thoroughly infatuated with Grace Monfort. I lost my 
chance when Yincent was so sick. Grace went to take 
care of him and won his heart, when really at the time he 
liked me better than he did her. But now the great big 
baby loves her because he is greateful to her. {Sh7'ugsher 
shoidders). Robert took it easily. He ,gave Grace up 
without a word, and just as I was building fairy castles of 
a future supremacy here, I am threatened with ruin by 
Robert's death. (Rises and ivalks to tahle.) Everything 
is Charles Yincent now. If Robert wants anything he calls 
for Yincent. ( Sits doiun at tahle. ) If there is a lawn party 
in town Captain Yincent is the hero; if a select diinier, 
Yincent is the honored guest. If anything grand is to be 
done they have Yincent do it. Grace loves him, (spite- 
fully) or pretends to, and he is the hero of the hour. 

[A hell is heard from left doorinflai^ — Rising. 

There is Robert ringing his bell (Louder. ) I'm coming. 
(Exit through door, 7'eappearing again). He wants Yin- 
cent of course. ( Goes to hay loindoiv and looks oid. ) There 
he is in the garden making love to Grace. ( Opens win- 
doiu and calls) Captain Yincent? Robert wants you. 
(Shuts window.) He is coming, here he is. 

[ Vincent enters through R door. ] 

Yin. — Did you say Major Taylor wanted me? 

Nellie — Yes, and while you are with him I will take a 



A mothek's cuese. 19 



little air [Exits through E door as Vincent exits through 
Taylor's room, shutting door.'] 

[Enter Mary Donovan from left wing loith duster in her 
hand. She begins to tidy up the room and dust the furni- 
ture. ] 

Mary—'Woil, well, well, if this house isn't turned up 
topsy turvey. The master has got the influmatics, the 
Captain has taken his girl, and Miss Nellie has got the 
dumps for all its worth. If the master dies, Miss Nellie's 
cake is baked. Then the Captain will marry Miss Grace 
and like as not settle right in here. Then there is Pat. 
He's the most impudentest fellow I ever see. He had'nt 
been acquanted with me for three days before one day he 
came in and says he: "How do you do? where's your hat 
rack?" and says I, just in fun, "I'm hat rack enough for 
you." Then he put his hat on my head and says he: 
"You're just a regular old mahogany," and he kissed me. I 
got mad and says he, "You mus'nt get mad for we're rela- 
tions;" says I, "we're not," and says he, "Why not? You're 
working now for Major Taylor and I am working for Cap- 
tain Vincent." "What has that to do with it." says I, and 
says he, "don't they work together?" Yes says I. Then 
says he, "don't they have a relative duty?" Yes, says I, 
taking Pat's hat off my head and holding it in my hand. 
"Then" says he, "ain't they related as far as duty is con- 
cerned?" "I guess so," says I, "'then ain't our interests 
identical?" says he "bein as you work for one and I for the 
other" says he, "and of course were related, and among re- 
lations there's no harm in kissing among the sexes," and 
with that he kissed me again, before I could help myself. 
{Pat opens door in E and sticks his head in.) — 

Pat — Is their any company, Mary? 

Mary— {saucily). No! there ain't any company, mister 
Pat, and there's none wanted. 

Pat — {entering the room. ) None wanted? That's a nice 
spache to drop from two such rosy lips and pearly taath, 
besids that I'm not company. Come here Mary, by this 
bay windy, and I'll whisper something into your left ear, 
that will make you feel as if you were swimming in a river 
of Ice Cream flavored with vanilla. 

Mary — Be off with you Pat with your blarney. {Pat 
goes to hay window and Mary as she talks, gradually ap- 
proaches to him. ) What would I want to be swiming in 
ice cream when it costs twenty-five cents a quart? It would 
be pure extravagance. What do you want, anyway, Pat? 
{By this time she is standing beside him). 

Pat — Mary did ye's ever study ana-to-my? 

if ar?/— No! What for do you ask that question? 



20 A mother's curse. 



Pat — Stand there and I'll answer yes. {He takes Mary's 
hand and pulls her over near him.) Now look at me arrum. 
Dye see it? 

Mary — Yes, I see it; its big enough. 

Pat — {holding his arm out straight.) Dye see how 
straight me arrum is? Now whist: {Bends it gradually 
toivards Mary's ivaist until as he stops speakiny it is 
around it. ) Now I'll draw up the confabulation of the 
right periodical, and that slaps the polar equinox right in 
the face. Old Pole gets mad and contracts. So mad, that 
it effects the whole arrum until it bends and bends, until it 
stops, and then it is supported by your phalanx. That is 
ana-to-my. 

Mary — {pushing him away.) Go way with you ana-to- 
my and big words. You had your arm around my waist. 

Pa^— "Why not? 

Mary — {mimicking him.) Why not. Because, why 
not, and not why. 

Pat — And is that the reason. Mary {coaxingly) come 
closer to me and let me whisper to you. 

Mary — I'll not. ( Pat takes tier hand and with his hack 
to the tvindow he pulls her toivards him. She resists, and 
he pulls all the harder. Mary suddenly leans toivards him 
when Pcd loses his balance and falls out the tvindow). 

Mary — There goes your ana to-my now, and you can 
just pick it up. [Dusts around the room and goes to win- 
doiv.) Pat has fallen into the tub of rain water — now he 
is picking himself up — go way with you, kissing your hand 
to me. \^Bell rings\ There is Miss Nellie's bell, so I 
must go. [Exits. ~\ 

{^Enters from Taylor' s room, Vincent, in cm excited man- 
ner Jiolding a manuscript in his hand. ] 

Vincent — {walking to Divan near B F.) Here is a hor- 
rible tale. ( Seats himself. ) I will read this over again to 
be certain of it. Taylor has broken down at last, and here 
IS his confession. {Unfolds manuscript and reads aloud). 

"Dying Confession of Robeet Taylor!" 

Believing that I am about to die, I dare not leave the 
world with my lips sealed, as to a dreadful secret con- 
nected with my past life, which I now confess, placing the 
same in writing and confiding it to my friend, Captain 
Charles Vincent, to be used only after my death. 

My sister Julia married a gentleman by the name of 
Armitage, who, after marriage accumulated considerable 
wealth. A daughter was born to them, and for awhile ev- 
erything went well and happily. After awhile all this 



A mother's curse. ' 21 



changed. First Armitage sickened and died, leaving his 
widow and fatherless daughter in my charge, as their nat- 
ural protector. God knows that I at least tried to do this 
duty faithfully. My sister and I gathered np what he had, 
and by judicious handling, it footed up about eighty thous- 
and dollars, of which at Julia's request, I invested seventy- 
five thousand dollars in interest bearing securities. Most 
of women would have been resigned if not happy, under 
these circumstances, but every fresh development of the 
affairs of Armitage seemed to add to her grief. He had 
made her his executrix, without bonds, and left everything 
to her, either for herself or their child. This confidence 
in her seemed to draw her closer to him, even in death. 
She never recovered from it. Every dollar she used in 
maintaining herself and child, seemed to her a messenger 
of loving care and foresight from her dead husband. Five 
thousand dollars went to pay doctors and for traveling and 
other expenses, to save her from the grave, but all in vain. 
In spite of all that I could do; in spite of all that kind 
skillful physicians could do, she sickened and died. Her 
only thought seeming to be a heartsick desire to go to her 
husband. I believe that at this time I was a good man. 
Her very trust in me awoke a corresponding degree of 
faithfulness on my part, and she told me on her dying 
bed, that one thing that consoled her, was that she felt that 
next to a mother, her own dear brother would be good to 
her f atherles s and soon to be motherless child. After her 
death, her will was read. In it she left everything to her 
child, and in case that Nellie should marry, have children, 
and die, then the property was to be evenly divided among 
the surviving children. But in case Nellie should die, 
either before marriage or childless, then the property 
should all be mine, thus making me the absolute heir in 
that contingency. 

If I had married some true woman at this time, I believe 
everything would have been well, but I did not. Habits 
acquired on the frontier, came back to me. I began gamb- 
ling and lost. I formed the acquaintanship of dangerous 
women, whose smiles cost gold. My salary was insufficient 
to meet expenses and I used some government funds. 
Fearing detection, for I did not know at what minute an 
inspector might visit me, I took some of the money be- 
longing to my dead sister's child and replaced the govern- 
ment funds. This started a new idea. I could use this 
money in my keeping as guardian and executor, and not 
fear an inspector. I used the most of it, and lost it, year 
by year, until people began to talk, and an accounting was 
hinted at. I knew what this meant, and was almost frantic 



22 A mother's curse. 



and to save myself I made the hellisli resolve to get rid of 
little Nellie, and thus become the heir. After that, day by 
day, I gave her a subtle poison, giving it to her in lemon- 
ade, of which she was very fond. She grew thinner and 
paler and more lovely every day. People noticed it and 
shook their heads saying, "she is going the same way her 
parents did." I had always been kind to her and she lov- 
ed me dearly, and would sit on my knee and drink the 
poisoned lemonade, laughing at me as she did so, and 
thanking me for my goodness. At last she was confined 
to her bed, and after a short time she died, poisoned by 
me, and blessing me as her best friend. Her death left me 
with no one but myself to settle with. There is something 
left which I wish should be paid to the next heirs in New 
York who are mentioned in my will, and I leave this to my 
friend Captain Charles Yincent, as well as the arrange- 
ments for a support for my cousin Nellie Gordon. 

As I have said before, I cannot die with this secret on 
my mind, and hoping that God may forgive my terrible 
sin where desperation conquered over all that was good in 
me, I subscribe to the truth of all the above. 

EOBEKT TAYLOE. 

Vinceyd — {speaks). He broke entirely down once or 
twice while dictating this to me, but a dose or two of bran- 
dy pulled him through. It is terrible though. 

[Enters through R door Grace Monfort Vincent rises.^ 

Grace — {pouting). You did me nice. Captain Yincent, 
to leave me out on the lawn all alone all this time. 

Vincent — {leading her to a seat). Pardon me Grace, but 
I could not get away from poor Taylor any sooner. Oh, 
by the way, here is pen and ink and I would like to have 
you witness his signature to a business document. It will 
not be necessary for you to read it as you know his signa- 
ture. 

[ Goes to secretary, opens it. Grace rises and taking pen 
signs manuscript held folded by Vincent. She then sits on 
Divan to R. Vincent folds manuscript after signing ii, 
puts it in his pocket and sits down by Grace.^ 

Vincent — And now my dear Grace let us talk of our 
future. I love you dearly, and you have been partial 
enough to say you return it. I can speak of this to you 
here, without reproaching myself, as Taylor feeling that 
you and he were not mated, gave you up willingly for your 
own sake. Will you not set the day now and tell me again 
that you love me? 

Grace — Yoit may set the day Captain. {Captain Vincent 
takes her hand smiling. ) You foolish boy, what do you 



A MOTHEK^S CUESE. • 2B 



want me to tell you that I love you for, when I am Roine 
to marry you. Is not that enough? 

Vincent— li seems like a dream, as if I could not be so 
happy. {Grace sudderily places he?- handkerchief to her 
face). What is the matter dear Grace, are you faint '-^ 

Grace— A fan, please ? 

[Vincent rises and hands her a fan ivhich she uses. He 
stands near her anxiously looking at her.'] 

Grace— {aside). This is almost too much to bear. I do 
not love him, and I am going to make a terrible sacrifice. 
{aloud.) I am better now. 

Vincent~{taling chair and sittinq down facing Grace.) 
Are you better now? 

Grace— Yqq, it was only a faint feeling, which has gone 

Vincent— I wish to tell you one thing Grace, that hith- 
erto i have kept concealed, as I wished to win you as I was 
Now that I have done this, I wish to tell you of our future 
My mother is rich and I am her heir. After our marriage 
we will visit her, and I know she will love you as a daugh- 
ter. Your life will be a golden one, and as happy as devo- 
tion and wealth can make it. 

Grace — I did not need this to make me love you Captain 
but of course I cannot be averse to it. I sincerely hope 
our lite may be a happy one. {Bell rings. ) Go to Major 
laylor now and then we will walk home. ( Vince?it tales 
her hand and kisses it) 

Vincent — You make me so happy. 

[Exits into Taylor's room.] 

Grace— {rising and crossing stage.) Oh this is terrible. 
i am going to marry this man when I love another. When 
he even touches me with his hand, a cold chill runs through 
my veins. But revenge is sweet and a woman is an enig- 
ma. Robert Taylor whom I love threw me off and to spite 
him I am going to marry Captain Vincent whom I do not 
love or even care for. But then, he says he has plenty of 
gold and that will be a wonderful peacemaker. 

Scene Closes. 

ACT II. 

Scene VL—S^zrrces to front. Sitting room in Grace Mon- 
forfs Rouse. Doors in flat. Enter Taylor in full 
dress rubUng his hands and smiling. 

Taylor— 'EYQYjihhig goes on prosperously for me. Vin- 
cent and Grace are married. Poor Grace! she does "not 
care a fig for Vincent, but she doesloye, me. Well, {shrug- 



24 A mother's curse. 



^272^ kis shouldtrs and laughing.) She began the flirta- 
tion as a piece of spite work expecting to have me at her 
feet in short order, but I did not carry out the programme. 
Owing to the inclemency of the weather I did not appear. 
But Vincent did, and Grace, poor girl could not retrace 
her steps. If ever I saw the spider and fly episode re- 
inacted, it has been done in this instance. Then Nellie 
she was half way in love with either Vincent or his money 
and she is now in just the humor to do any devilment to- 
wards either of them I want her to, and she is able to do 
it. Vincent and Grace are going to New York and from 
there to Detroit on their wedding tour, where I suppose 
ma mere as Vincent calls her, will meet them at the door 
with her gold in flour sacks to present to them. But Vin- 
cent has my confession yet, and by hook or crook I must 
get it away from him. He says he has it put away so I 
must wait I suppose until he returns and then I will have 
that confession. [Exits to L F.^ 

Enter Nellie Gordon. 

Nellie — {laughing). Well the climax is reached and 
Captain Vincent has married that goose Grace, when he 
might have married me. It is a queer ending of what 
might have been a happier termination. Grace does not 
care a snap for Vincent, and married him out of spite and 
also thinking him rich. / did care for him. Grace loves 
cousin Robert and he does not care for her. ( Slowly)^ 
Now I will have my revenge out of this, and serve two pur- 
poses. I will wrench that fool's heart out -of her, and help 
Robert. {Laughs.) I'll write to Mrs. Vincent, the Cap- 
tain's mother and tell her anonymously that her son has 
married a woman who was thrown oft by another man. 
The letter will not stop in New York on its wedding trip, 
so it will reach Detroit before them. I'll go now, and 
write it. \^Exit through L door in liat.A, 

\^Mary's voice is heard at right iving front. '] 

*'You need'nt coax me any more Pat. Flavan {enters 
followed by Pat. ) "The sight of a weddin has turned you 
crazy. What would I marry you now for? 

Pat — Oh, just to be in the style, Mary. Did'nt you see 
how slick everything went off. First the minister, he back- 
ed up under the flowers in the corner and looked awful 
solemn, and then whin Mister Charles walked in with Miss 
Grace, he looked so solemn, and then says he: ''Charles 
Vincent, do you take this woman," tfec, <fec. Mr. 
Charles he said "Yes," just as if he would say onnything 
else. And then the minister he gasses awhile and says he, 
"Grace do you take this man," and so forth. Misses Grace 



A mothee's curse. 25 



she looks down kind of foolish like and she says she will, 
and then the parson he flings in a lot of guff, and ends up 
by calling them man and wife, and kisses Miss Grace, and 
thin Mister Charles kisses her, and Miss Nellie kisses her, 
and Major Taylor kisses her, and Mary if ye'ed only the 
sand in yer back bone to have said yes, while he was in 
the notion, the parson would have married us for half 
price. 

Mary — Go way wid you Pat. I'm not ready to be mar- 
ried yet, and I'll never do that same thing till I get a good 
ready on. Law! just see how things will change. When 
I see Mister Eobert standing there, it seemed like one 
raised from the dead. The doctors said he could never get 
well, but he did in spite of them. 

Pat — Yis, talking about changes, look at Mister Charles. 
A short time ago Lulu was her name, that is of his girl, 
now it is Grace. When he gets back now I wonder what 
Lulu will say. 

Music. 

Pat — Sings: — 

When hearts grow cold, and love is old, 
A.nd grieving o'er neglect, 
A slighted maiden thus shall say: 
What else could I expect. 
. For men are false and fickle too; 
And changing every day, 
For some are false and others true. 
And what does Lulu say. 

.If^ri/— Sings: — 

She says that for awhile she cared, 

And grieved by day and night, 

Until a new one came along, 

Whose presence brought the light. 

For one man does not make the earth; 

Nor one beam make the day, 

T'vvas these same words as she came forth, 

That I heard Lulu say. 

Pat — You did. 
Jf^rz/— Idid 

Both:— 

She did not care, 
But for an hour or day, 
But when a girl is left behind, 
Oh! what does Lulu say. 



\^Dance and exeunt to leftf.'\ 



26 A motheb's cuese. 



Same as Scene 1st— ACT 1.— Parlor in Alice Vincent's. 
House, in Detroit Enter Mice Vincent from door 
in flat 

Mice — {as she wallcs down stage). And here is my son 
and his bride coming home when I did not want them 
here. If he_ had only stayed away. {Takes seat near 
table). 1 might have learned to have loved him while 
absent, but now that he is coming back, all the old aversion 
returns to me. {Slowly.) I have received a curious anony- 
mous letter, not very complimentary to his wife, but I will 
judge of her by my own vision. {Door hell rings). Ah, 
there they are! (Door at side opens enter Charles Vin- 
cent and Grace on Ms arm. Charles leaves Grace and 
runs to his mother, who receives him cordially. Charles 
turns to Grace who advaiices. 

Charles — Mother, my wife. {Mrs. Vincent advances 
and kisses Grace, then trembles as if shivering. ) 

Mice Vincent — Welcome Grace, as I suppose I may 
call you now, that you are the wife of my son. 

Grace — And I hope to be received by that as your 
daughter. 

Mice — {coldly.) It would be of no advantage to you 
child to be received as a daughter. The daughters of our 
house have not been happy. 

Grace — {aside). Her manner chills me. {Moud.) I 
hope then madam, that I may be a happy exception. 

Mice Vincent. — It is to be hoped so. Charles I see 
your trunks are at the door. You can take your old room, 
and are enough at home to give the necessary directions. 
{Exit Charles). Sit down Grace. {They sit on divan). 
How long have you known my son? 

Grace — About a year, Inadam. , 

Mice — A short acquaintance to ripen into a marriage. 
Your home was at Newburgh, I believe. 

Grace — It was, madam. 

Mice — And your future plans? 

Grace — I do not know. My husband, ( confusedly ) that 
is your son — you know is in the army. Major Taylor 
{Mice Vincent starts as if surprised) is his superior offi- 
cer. 

Mice — {rising as if excited.) Major Taylor, did you 
say? {Laughs). Oh, pardon me, Taylor is a common 
name, after all. But do you know anything of the history 
of this Major Taylor. * {Smiles.) Excuse my interest in 
him, but you know it is natural ; my son being with him. 

Grace — {disconnectedly.) Well — I can't say. He is an 
army officer and a Major. 



A mothee's curse. 27 



^lice — Do you know anytliing about his family? his 
connections? where he is from? 

G-race — Not very much, save a few things I have heard. 
His mother was a very beautiful woman, I have heard, but 
her name is forbidden in Major Taylor's house. I have 
never heard the particulars, but there was shame and dis- 
grace connected with her life. 

:)lUce — {aside. ) The same woman, and my son intimate 
with her son. {slloud). You must be tired after your 
journey, and besides I have been so thoughtless as to keep 
you with your bonnet on. If you will step this way I will 
have the servant show you to your room. {They exeunt 
tJirougJidoor in side, and ^lice Vincent re-enters, walking 
slowly to front of stage. ) 

Mice — This is strange, very strange. Charles in com- 
pany with that woman's son, for I have no doubt, but that 
he is Tier sou. Out in the world among so many millions 
of people, for him in his wanderings to fall in with her 
son. It is very strange. This woman he has brought 
here, I like her not, but she is my son's wife, and of course 
one of my family. She is the messenger of evil to me. 
{Laughs hysterically and walks up and down the stage. ) 
My son must meet her son, and my son's wife must un- 
consciously tell me of it. Then that letter, telling me that 
my son's wife is the cast off betrothed of this Taylor. Ah! 
that name. Another stab at me, {BinTcs in chair.) 

{Enters Charles through door in side.) Charles — {Sur- 
prised). Why mother, why do you seem so sad? {Sits on 
divan. ) 

Mice — Merely a temporary affair, Charles. I felt a 
trifle faint suddenly. ) Tell me about your wife. Where 
did you meet her? How long have you known her? 

Charles — {gayly ). Oh, met her at Newburgh, a year ago. 
She was engaged I think to Major Taylor. I had a spell 
of fever and she nursed me through it. Love ensued of 
course, and I was made happy by her promise to marry 
me. 

Mice — Who is this Major Taylor, you speak of? 

Charles — An army officer with whom I am serving. 

Mice—^\-^ he give up gracefully when, when you took 
his affianced wife away from him? 

Charles — He had too, and then he was taken sick and 
came near dying, 

{The side door opens and G-race appears, hut seeing 
mother and son in close conference, she stops aud listens 
unseen hy them), 

Mice — Then you feel no misgivings as to your choice? 



28 A mother's cuese. 

Pardon me, for this question, but I am naturally anxious 
about you. 

Charles — I feel no misgiving, mother. 

:jilice — Did you ever mention to Grace that I was rich, 
and that you were my heir? I ask this question for your 
sake. 

diaries — I do not remember that I stated it in the way 
you mention. 

Mice — Did she not know that you expected to be rich 
some day ? Did you never refer to me, and to my manner 
of living, or to any incidents of your past life? It would 
be natural for you to do so. 

diaries — Why mother, I suppose that I did, and that 
Grace may have supposed that you were rich, and she 
knew I was an only child. Why do you ask? 

Mice — Oh, nothing! She of course coidd love a rich 
man as well a poor one. How do you like this. Major 
Taylor? 

diaries — Yery much. He has been very kind to me. 

Mice — Is he a strictly moral man? 

diaries — {confusedly.^ Oh, I suppose he is, the way 
that men go. 

Mice — {earnestly.) Is there anything about him at once 
facinating and yet repellant? 

darles — {suddenly). You have described him exactly. 
He has what you might call laughing eyes. {Mlice starts). 
What is the matter, mother ? You are strangely excited. 

Mice — Nothing, only I have not been well lately. I 
am better now. {Slowly. ) What would you say if I were 
to ask you to separate yourself entirely from this new 
found friend, this Major of yours. 

diaries — Why mother, I cannot understand you. 

Mice — Whether you can or not, I shall make that de- 
mand. 

darles — {rising and speaTcing as if expostulating.) But 
mother, how can I. He procured me my commission in 
the army, and I am ordered to report to him for duty. 

Alice — ^You can ask to be changed to some other place. 

diaries — But I had rather serve with him, and besides 
it is Grace's home. 

Mice — I cannot help that. If you wish my favor, you 
must leave that man. 

darles — Do you know him? 

Mice — I never saw or heard of him until to-day. 

darles — Then why do you wish me to leave him ? 

Mice — {excitedly.) I do not wisli it, I demand it. 

darles — And I refuse to do so. I had hoped that ab- 
sence would, have softened your dislike to me, and changed 



A mothee's curse. 29 



your arbitrary dictation over my actions. You stepped in 
between me and Lulu, whom I loved, and broke that up. 
You treated me so that I felt unwelcome in my own home 
and I left it, and now you seek to break me off from one 
who has been my friend — a man you say you have never 
seen or heard of. It is unfair mother. But forgive me for 
these words, for at least for a few days you can make it 
pleasant for my bride, if not for me. Let us have pleas- 
anter words. I will go after Grace. 

:^Uce — {rising). No! you need not bring Grace here 
now, until I have my say. There is a fatality hanging over 
us that has brought you here to hear words that you would 
not have heard had you not returned. Your father was 
untrue to me, and before you were born, I had such a loath- 
ing for him that 1 hated the unborn babe of v/hich he was 
the father. I prayed that a curse might hang over your 
life, and that you might disgrace your unworthy father. I 
have tried since your birth to control that feeling, but I 
cannot. You need not promise that girl you have married, 
any of my money, for from this day I disown you. {Charles 
sinks on divan covering Ms face ivitJi Ms hands. ) You 
shall never see one cent of my money. Do you ask why ? 
The woman who ruined my life was named. Taylor, and she 
had laughing eyes, and your Major Taylors' mother's life 
is shrouded in disgrace. {Loud.) She is the woman who 
stole my husband from me. 

Charles — {supplicatingly). Oh, mother! you are mis- 
taken. 

Mice — And now I will do what I should have done 
years ago. {:>ldvanci?ig toward Mm and raising her right 
hand. ) You were not born into this world as the offspring 
of love, but with deceit on one hand and hate on the other. 
May everything that you touch wither in your hands, may 
everything that you love, dishonor you, may every friend 
you have betray you, and above all, may my curse rest on 
you and about you, for I hate you ! I hate you ! 

( Exits through door in flat. Charles endeavors to rise, 
hut staggers and falls on the floor in a swoon. Grace steps 
into room and going up to where Vincent is lying, she 
pushes Mm cojitemptuouslg with her foot. ) 

Grace — I never loved you, and only married you for your 
money! You liar! You told me you were an only son, and 
would have unbounded wealth. To gain this, I have pros- 
tituted myself under the form of law. I will rid myself 
of you as soon as the law will let me do so. Property and 
expectations indeed! You have neither. While I am your 
wife I will not dishonor you, but I will not be your wife a 
day longer than I can help. Who is Lulu, that you loved 



30 A mothek's curse. 



so? you false liound! Do you think that I did not know 
of your first passion for Nellie Gordon? Liar and traitor! 
I hate you. When I desert you, as I shall, you can then 
enjoy the embraces of Nellie Gordon, and not feel that I 
am in the way. 

[ Curtain. ] 

End of Act II. 

[pin Interval oj Three Years.} 

ACT III. 

Scene I— j^ Western Fort. Interior of Major Taylor's 
Quarters, representing a log house. To right of stage 
is a chintz covered lounge. Plain chairs around 
room. In centre a pine table with pens, ink, hand 
hell, etc., on it. On wall maps are hung. 

l^Major Taylor discovered at table as if in a hrown 
study. ] 

Taylor—HQTQ is my infernal luck again. I went down 
to Omaha the other day and drew my funds for the next 
quarter. I tempted the fickle goddess and again she desert- 
ed me. What shall I do. The day of accounting has come 
and I am a lost sheep. {Slowly.) Vincent can help me 
out. {Rings hell on table.) .Orderly! 

( If. 8. Soldier appears at door in flat). 

Orderly — Did you call, sir? 

Taylor — Yes! Give my compliments to Captain Vin- 
cent and tell him if he is not too much engaged that I 
should like to see him. 

Orderly — Yes, sir. {Salutes and exits.) 

Taylor — It is going to he hard work, but I have already 
told Nellie, that if I fail she must come to the rescue. She 
has received a letter from Grace that will fix Vincent. 

{Enters Kellie from side.) 

JS'ellie — Robert, when are these troubles of yours going 
to end. {Sits on lounge). You no sooner get out of one 
scrape than you get into another, and as much as I wish to 
serve you, it is becoming monotonous. Common sense 
must tell you that detection will come sooner or later; and 
in the interim, there is all this feverish anxiety. Why do 
you not stop gambling? You never win, but always lose. 
{Suddenly) How much are you short now? 

Taylor — {despondently) About two thousand. 

Kellie — Well Robert, I will help you out of this, but do 



MOTHEK^S CUBSE. 81 



not, ask me to any more, andbesides I think Captain Vincent 
has been victimized about enongh. 

Taylor — {laugTiing sarcastically). Ettu Brute. You 
are smitten with him too, are you? 

Nellie — No, but I am playing a despicable part that I 
am tired of. Now what is the particular program? You 
have already given me the general plan. 

Taylof — I have sent for Vincent, and am going to get 
him to help me, by a few entries on his return, that I will 
make all right after a while. If I succeed in doing this, I 
will not need you, but if not, I will When he comes I 
want you to be in the next room and watch results. Here, 
I will give you a cue. If I am unsuccessful I will leave the 
house and say. Oh! Vincent, I am undone, God help me. 
Wait a moment and then come in. Use every means in 
your power to gain him over. This will be the last time I 
will ask you to aid me. 

Kellie — (reproachfully). You have said that before 
Robert. 

(;^ hioclc at the door. Kellie rises and runs out of 
side. ) 

Taylor — Come in. ( Vincent enters through door in flat). 
Ah, Captain, I'm glad to see you. {Rises and advances 
towards Vincent and shaTcing hands with him.) Here! 
take a pipe and a se'esta on the lounge. (They fill pipes 
and light them. Vincent lies on lounge and Taylor takes 
chair and sits near Vincent). 

Vincent — The orderly said you wanted to see me. What 
is it? 

Taylor — Well, the truth of the business is that I am in 
a fix. 

Vincent — How so? 

Taylor — Well, I bucked the tiger when I was in Omaha 
and lost, and I want you to help me temporarily. 

Vincent— ^^j dear man, / am in no shape to help you. 

You know that two-thirds of my salary goes to my wi 

that is Grace, to support her and our daughter, and it cer- 
tainly takes the third to support me, and then I have to 
deprive myself of many things I need. 

Taylor — {leaning over towards Vincent.) You have 
government funds on hand, Vincent? 

Vincent — ( rises to a sitting position. ) I know it, but 
what has that to do with my ability to help you? 

Taylor — I want you to let me have two thousand dollars 
for a while. 

Vincent — I hav'nt two thousand cents. 

Taylor — You have a good deal more than what I want. 
It will be only temporary. 



82 A MOTHER^S CUESE. 



Vincent — Taylor, do you mean that you want me to let 
you have two thousand dollars of government funds ? 

Taylor — Only for a little while. 

Vincent — How can I do it. It is stealing. 

Taylor — (excitedly). No it is not, Yincent, I will repay 
you. 

Vincent — But how would I escape detection? 

Taylor — Buy a few extra horses, and a few thousand feet 
of lumber. 

Vincent — Make false returns? If that is what is needed, 
why do you not do it? 

Taylor — Because I have to pay to disbursing officers, 
while you buy of the many. 

Vincent — {rising and emptying his pipe). I will not do 
this Taylor, for you or any man in existence. I have led 
an unhappy life it is true, banished by my mother, and de- 
serted by my wife, but I have never yet been a thief. 

Taylor — {rising and laying doivn his pipe. ) Then all is 
over with me — and I must perish. {Louder. ) Oh, Yin- 
cent, I am undone, God help me! {Rushes towards door 
in flat and exits. ) 

Vincent — {sitting on lounge.) Poor Taylor is almost 
crazy. I would like to help him, but I cannot do this. 

{Enter from side, Nellie. She approaches lounge and 
sits doivn beside Vincent). 

Nellie — Good morning. Captain^ 

Vincent — {half rising.) Good morning, Miss Gordon. 

Nellie — (looking around as if surprised). "Why! where 
is Eobert? I thought he was here! 

Vincent — (slowly). He was here, but left a minute ago, 
like a crazy lunatic. 

Nellte — He must be in some trouble. He has acted 
very strangely the last few weeks. Do you know what it 
is? 

Vincent — {aside.) I wilt tell her. {Aloud.) Yes, Miss 
Gordon, I do. He has been gambling again, and is short 
in his accounts. 

Nellie — What does short in his accounts mean? 

Vincent — It means that he has used and lost government 
money. 

Nellie — What does he propose to do? 

Vincent — He wants me to help him by doing the same 
thing. It is more than I am willing to do. 

Nellie — Captain, aid Bot)ert, if you can. He is not bad 
only weak. 

Vincent — You seem to be a very devoted friend of Ma- 
jor Taylor's, Miss Gordon. 

Nellie — I am his cousin. 



A mother's cuese. 33 



Vincent — {haughtily). You seem to take a more than 
cousinly interest in him, to thus advise me to be dishonest 
for his sake. - 

Nellie — {in ci'loiv tone.) You are the last man on earth 
who should accuse me of this. {Louder and turning to 
him she lays her hand on his shoulder). It is unjust and 
cruel in you. 

Vincent — {as if surprised.) Why Nellie — or excuse me, 
Miss Gordon, what does this mean? Be frank with me. 

Nellie — {clasping her hand over Vincent's shoulder). I 
ivill be frank with you, even at the expense of maidenly mod- 
esty. When I first met you, I loved you. ( Vincent staiis). 
Nay do not be shocked, at the avowal. Robert saw it, and 
it pleased him very much. You thought something of me 
then, too, or I was much mistaken. When you were so ill, 
it was not lack of interest in you that kept me from your 
side, but a regard to propriety. Another stole you from 
me and both Robert and myself were unhappy for he loved 
her and I loved you. You think that I take an interest in 
my cousin ? I do ! He has been a good, kind friend to me, 
a brother, and I can never repay him. {Rising and walking 
to chair she leans against it.) You belonged to me Cap- 
tain, and we should have married. Do you think that I 
should have deserted you? No! I would have made you 
happy. Every day I would have striven to find some new 
way of pleasing you. I would not have treated you like 
that traitress, Grace'. 

Vincent — {rising and loalking the stage). There! you 
have gone far enough. Remember that she is my wife and 
the mother of my daughter. 

Nellie — Oh, you should speak of her kindly. ( Takes 
letter from her pocket and sits in chair.) Listen! Vi/i- 
cent ivalks towards front of stage and stands nervously 
with his hands in his pocket.) I have a letter from Grace 
that I want to read to you. Do you want to hear it? 

Vincent — (hoarsely). Read on. 

Nellie — ( reading. ) 

"My Dear Nellie: — ^ 

I had never thought that I could bring myself to address 
you as above, but after so long a time, it seems as if cer- 
tain events were as a blank, and again I am your happy 
friend and the affianced wife of the only man I ever loved, 
Robert Taylor." 

{Dumb show of intense interest by Vincent during read- 
ing of letter. ) 

"It may be that I have been somewhat to blame, but 
nothing^ compared to the lying scoundrel, ( Vincent starts 



34 A motheb's cuese. 



and puts his hand to his head, withdraws it and clasps his 
hands hefore him) who plead his wealth, his dear mother's 
wealth. He did have a certain type of manly beauty, 
which is reflected in his daughter who looks so much like 
him that I almost hate her, but his attractions were all ex- 
ternal, within he was false as hell itself. Oh, how I hate 
him." 

Vincent — Oh, my God! {Sinks on lounge and buries his 
face in his hands. ) Go on ! 

Nellie — {continues reading. ) "But the farce is about to 
end. My lawyer tells me that in a short time I shall re- 
ceive an absolute divorce and then I shall be free from 
him I loathe. My only regret will be that I have borne 
him a child, for she will be a constant reminder of an un- 
happy episode in my life that I would fain have blotted 
out. But still I will have some mercy on him. You liked 
him once and he loved you. He is near you now. Take 
him to your arms and comfort him. You need have no 
fear of me as a rival. Kiss him and tell him he is beloved. 
You can have him, for I hate him. 

Grace (not) Yincent. 

Vincent — Oh that is hard. 

Nellie — {rising and going to lounge, she sits down by 
Vincent and crosses her hands again on his shoulder. ) It 
may be humiliating to a woman, but with my love for you 
I am willing to follow the advice of your unworthy wife. 
She married you for your money, loving another; without 
your money she hated you. I loved you, money or no 
money, for yourself alone. 

{Vincent — {turning toivards Nellie, he puts his arm 
around her and draws her head on his shoidder. ) Oh 
Nellie! my heart is broken, but in the midst of my deso- 
lation, your loving words come like a benediction. I love 
you simply because in my sorrow you love me. Tell me 
now what you wish me to do to prove the sincerity of my 
devotion. 

Nellie — Save my cousin Robert. 

Vincent — {drawiny aivay from her.) That is a crucial 
test. 

Nellie — {rising and facing Vincent.) My cousin Robert 
took me from an unhappy home when I was a child, and 
spread over my life a rainbow of promise for the future. 
He has filled in every harmonious color, and made my life 
complete. Where before I heard quarrelling and discord, 
from his lips I have heard nothing but peace and happi- 
ness. He has his fault I know. If he had not, he would 
be more than human. Were he more than human, I might 
worship him, but in my inferiority, I could not plead for 



A mother's curse. 35 



him, for he would not need it. Oh Vincent, if you have 
any regard for me, save him who has been so good to me. 
If it were not for him, I would not be what I am. 

Vincent — (rising and taking Nellie's hands). Enough! 
I will do as you say. One more sacrifice will not do me 
any harm. Your words are very precious, Nellie. Let us 
seal our new love with a kiss. (He kisses her. ) Now I 
must away, and fix my returns, for the pony mail passes 
here this afternoon. Good-bye, sweetheart. One more 
kiss. (Kisses her and exits through door in flat). 

Nellie — (laughing). Pretty well done, I should say. A 
little compromising perhaps, but that is no matter now-a- 
days. How he did bite. (Slowly.) Poor fellow. (Sits 
on chair near table. ). I pitty him, and cannot help liking 
him after all. That letter did the business. 
(Enter Taylor cautiously from R door in flat). 
Hullou! Robert, is that you? 

Taylor — (advancing anxiously). Did you succeed, Nel- 
lie ? Tell me quickly, for this suspense is becoming unen- 
durable. 

Nellie — He has consented Robert, to aid you before 
night. I will, I hope have the pleasure of handing you 
two thousand dollars that you so much need. 

Taylor — Bless you for that, sweet coz., and I imll try 
and take this lesson to heart. But now I must go to Yin- 
cent and be near him or he may fail me after all. Good- 
bye, until we meet again. (Exit. ) 

Nellie — After all, this is a detestable farce that is being 
carried on. I will try a little music to scare away my 
thoughts and quiet my conscience. (Exit to B.) 
Enter Vincent. 

Vincent — I have done it. It did not take long. I only 
had to buy ten horses at one hundred and fifty dollars 
apiece, that made fifteen hundred dollars. Then I bought 
five hundred dollars worth of lumber and that made two 
thousand. When Taylor pays me back I will sell the hors- 
es again and expend the lumber. (Sits down on divan.) 
God help me, here I am a thief, and a forger, for I had 
to sign the receipt to the voucher. 
(Enter Taylor hurriedly.) 

Taylor — Yincent have you fixed me out? I see the pony 
mail has come. 

Vincent — Yes, here is your money. (Hands him hills.) 
My papers are made out and in the mail. (A knock heard 
at the door. ) 

Taylor — Come in. 

(Orderly enters through door in flat and hands mail to 
Taylor. 



36 A mothee's cuese. 



Taylor — Hullou! here is a letter for you and one forme 
from the War Department. {Hands Vincent letter, who 
takes it inechanically and opens it. Taylor opens his letter 
eagerly.) Here it is, by Jove: My leave of absence for 
ninety days, with permission to apply for ninety days more 
and to go beyond the department. What have you got, 
Vincent ? 

Vincent — {carelessly,) The same kind of a document. 
But / don't care for it now, for I can't turn over my prop- 
erty. 

Taylor — You won't have to, or here! we can have a stam- 
pede by Indians and lose the horses. And now Vincent, I 
want you to crown this with one more favor. Give me 
back my confession? 

Vincent — {rising and speaking angrily.) Have a care 
Major Taylor, how far you proceed. The possession of 
that confession is now my only defence, if you should ever 
turn upon me. 

Taylor — {coolly.) 1 could iuTu upon you now Vincent, 
and have you arrested before an hour. 

Vi^icent — {hotly). Yes, you could and disgrace me, but 
it would be the penitentiary for me, and the hangman for 
you. 

Taylor — {laughing.) Well, well, let us talk no more 
about penitentiaries and hangmen. Keep the confession 
and be doubly armed against me, my good friend. We 
will not quarrel with a pleasant leave of absence before 
us. 

Vincent — {moodily.) Do not talk too much then about 
penitentiaries. But I am poor company tO-day, so if you 
will excuse me, I'll go to my quarters and mope. 

Taylor — All right, come over to-night and have a game 
of draw? 

Vincent — Perhaps so. {Exits through door in flat.) 
Taylor — Excellent! The pony mail has gone with Vin- 
cent's returns and I have the money. So far, so good. 
{Calls.) Nellie! 

Nellie — {outside.) Coming, cousin Robert. {Enter Nel- 
lie, at R side.) What is in the wind now? {Stands near 
door. ) 

Taylor— {turning towards her.) Nellie! I have the 
money, and tried to obtain the confession I gave Vincent 
when I was so sick, but he demurrs. Now I must have it. 
Vincent cannot save himself, but with that confession he 
can draw me down with him ; without it I can laugh at the 
statements made by a suspected criminal. How can I get 
it? {Suddenly). Nellie, you- know Aw-te-we-zhick, the 



A mothee's curse. 37 

Indian. He could be hired to quiet Captain Vincent, and 
then I could get the confessioj. 

Nellie — No! Eobert, no murder if you please. I will 
get the confession for you during your leave. You and 
Captain Yincent are going to meet in Michigan, at Kalam- 
azoo, and be together some time. While you are there I 
will get the confession and perhaps before. That is all 
that I will do. 

Taylor — You must do another thing for ine, Nellie. I 
want now to put a flea in the official ear at Washington, so 
as to have Yincent under survillance at least. To do this, 
it must be done by you in person. I don't want him ar- 
rested, until I am ready for it. Suspicious circumstances, 
you know. Send a detective to me and Fll set him to 
work. You. want to say that it is not sure, but as a govern- 
ment ofiicer I have my suspicions and am trying to keep 
him with me so that he can be watched. If it does not 
answer my purpose, I need not have him arrested at all. 
Will you do this for me. 

Nellie — {walking up to him. ) Eobert, as in the past, so 
in the future, I will do anything you ask me to. {Sits on 
divan.) Now come here and let us plan a little. ( Taylor 
sits on chair astraddle facing her, leaning on back of 
chair.) When do you expect to start. 
Taylor— Day after to-morrow. 
Nellie — Shall I go with you? 

Taylor — Yes, as far as Detroit. There I want you to 
leave for Washington. 

Nellie — I want to go by East Saginaw and see Grace, 
Taylor — Yery well, then to Washington and you will 
find me at Kalamazoo on your return. You can write there 
to me. 
Nellie — Is Captain Yincent going at the same time? ■ 
Taylor — I hope so. He is going to take Pat, and you 
can take Mary with you. 

Nellie — Has my lord any further commands? 
Taylor — No! you can begin to get ready, and I will go 
and have a talk with" my clerks. 
Nellie — '{arising.) All right! {Exits through R side.) 
Taylor — Now for business, next for pleasure, and finally 
safety ! ( Exit It door in flat. ) 

{Enter Pat Flavan dressed in uniform.) 
Pat — Where is the Captain, I cannot discover him. But 
ain't I glad, that we'er going to the States and see civilized 
people once more. I shall polish up my buttons, cock my 
hat on sideways and just paralyze the girls, for they won't 
be able to resist me. And then Mary is going, and that 
will be the time 1 will make her just green with jealousy. 



38 A mother's curse. 



It's a nice place, the army and I tell you so for sure. 
Sings : — 

The army is just a dandy, 

A garden of nicest flowers, 
For flirting and love, and poker to prove 

A solace to lonesome hours; 

The girls can't resist the soldiers, 

They fall down and die right there; 
Until they are raised and petted and praised, 

And told they are very fair. 

The army's the place for pleasure, 

With a battle or two thrown in, 
To prove to the world, with banner unfurled, 

We fight with a will to win; 

No wonder the girls all tumble, 

Brass buttons will bring them down, 
But just the same they are not to blame, 

For soldiers just rule the town. 

[ Curtain. ] , 
End of Act III. 

ACT IV. 

Scene I — Parlors at Hotel at Kalamazoo. Double rooms. 
The front one with wr'iting table, chairs, lounge, etc. 
As curtain rises Vincent is discovered sitting at table. 
As the curtain rises enter Pat from L F with mail, 
which he hands to Vincent, who opens it icithout looking 
edit. , [Exit Pat^] 

Vhicent — (looking at letter.) Ah ! here is treachery. It 
was lucky I opened the letter, for here I am forewarned. 
{Reads.) 

"Washington, D. C. 
My Dear Cousin: 

I went to the Department last week and hinted at Y's 
defalcation, and undoubtedly ere now .you have a detective 
with you. His name is Dawson. I met him and told him 
the story, just as you wanted me to tell it. He will be 
placed under you.r orders. Will be back in a day or so. 

Nellie." 

{Speaks. ) So, this is the Mister Dawson. ( Folds his 
hands. ) Cursed infatuation. Betrayed by her I loved, 
scorned by him I have served, branded as a villain, stigma- 
tized as a traitor, a price set upon my head! All, all is 
gone ! hope, home, friends, money and my country. Yet I 
am a man and he who possesses all these, is no more. ( Rais- 
ing his right hand and looking up. ) Oh God, in heaven ! 



A mothek's cukse. 39 



thou eternal one ! mercy, mercy, and take from me my 
mother's curse. {Drops hard on table as if iveepi/ig.) 

{E/iterfrom L C Major Taylor, who observing Vincents 
agitation, stops. ) 

Taylor—Why Vincent, old boy, what is the matter? 
Some bad news? 

Vincent— {raising his head and looking steadily at Tay- 
lor.) No! good news. Kead that lettei*. {Bises and 
hands letter to Taylor. Taylor slirts as he looks at letter. ) 

Taylor— {aside.) The devil! but I must brass it out. 
{Aloud). So you have added opening letters addressed to 
others, to your many accomplishments. 

Vincent— ^o and yes. I did not look at the superscript- 
ion. There I was wrong, but when I once opened it and 
got a glance at it, I read it, there I was right, as the con- 
tents seem to be entirely devoted to me. Your hand has 
been pretty well played, Taylor, but you will find me too 
many for you. I still have your confession. 

Taylor— Yes, and if you had given me that confession, 
this would never have happened. You have brought it on 
yourself. 

Vincent — Brought what on myself? Do you imagine 
that your scheme will be successful now that it is unmask- 
ed. You should be contented. Major Taylor, with wh at I am 
and what you have brought me too. My wife has left me, 
my daughter I cannot see, my mother has cursed me, and 
driven me from her doors, and in helping you, I have dis- 
graced myself. Have a care. Major Taylor ! Have a care! 
Let whatever happen, I will save myself. 

Taylor — I will see you later, when you are more rational, 
All I want is my confession, and that is the only reason for 
my course. The detective. Miss Gordon speaks about, I 
have not seen. When she arrives, she can probably ex- 
plain. But give me that confession and I will stand be- 
tween you and all earthly harm. Think over it Vincent, 
until I return. ( Goes to table and looks over letters, takes 
up two or three. ) In the meantime I will take my letters, 
as I see they are addressed to me. {Exits tTirougli rear 
room and to left ) 

Vincent — There is some treachery going on. Death, be- 
fore dishonor or prison. {Calls) Pat! {Sits down to ta- 
ble, arises hurriedly and putting liand in vest poclcet, 
pulls out money. ) { Enter Pat L 0- ) 
Pat — Did you call, sir ? 

Vincent— Yqs, take this to the nearest drug store and 
have it filled at once. If any one is here when you return 
hand it to me quietly. ( Hands paver to Pat who starts. ) 
Here! ( Pat stops). I might want their attention divert- 



40 A mothee's cuese. 



ed. If I put my fingers in my hair, I want you to try and 
divert their attention the best you can. 

Pat — Yes sir, I'll di-vert it, if I have to do it with a 
club. (Exits.) 

{Enter from rear room Taylor and Dawson, the detec- 
tive). 

Taylor — Captain Yincent, my friend Mr. Armstrong 
You will find him to be a very pleasant gentleman. 

Vincejit — (aside.) It is Dawson, the detective, {^loud.) 
Mr. Armstrong I am happy to meet any friend of Major 
Taylor's. Have a. seat. (They all sit. ) Are you a resi- 
dent of Kalamazoo? 

Dawson — I no, or rather I should say I am a resident of 
no-where. I have traveled so much in my life, that I am 
at home almost anywhere. But you are a resident here, I 
suppose, as I see you are settled for life, judging from your 
rooms. 

Taylor — No! we have merely stopped here for awhile on 
business and pleasure combined. But Vincent, where is 
Pat? for now that Mary Donavan has been employed to 
take care of your daughter Lottie, Pat is our only hold. 

Vincent — {carelessly). Oh, Pat is around somewhere. 
{calls) Pat! He is not within call, the scamp. Ah, here 
he is. {Enter Pat L C.) 

Pat — Did you call sir! 

Vincent — Yes. What was it you wanted, Major? 

Taylor — Pat, bring up a bottle of wine, three glasses and 
some sugar and ice water. 

Pat — Yes sir, as soon as I clear the table. ( Goes to 
table to clear it off and liajids package to Vincent unseen 
by the others. Clears table and exits. Vince7it puts pack- 
age in vest pocket. ) 

Dawson — {io Vincent.) How do you like armt life on 
the plains, Captain Vincent? 

Vincent — Oh, pretty well, although it is fearfully mo- 
notonous. 

Dawson — Your business out there would not keep you 
very busy I should judge. You made purchases, I sup- 
pose. 

Vincent-— {aside.) ThisV^ the detective and he is try- 
ing to pump me. ij^loud.) Oh yes. I purchased horses, 
cattle and other supplies of that nature. 

Taylor — {aside.) I must stop this someway or other. 
{slloud to Dawson). Armstrong, come here and look at 
my sabre, slrmstrong rises and goes to Taylor in back 
room. They converse together). 

Vincent — {aside). Pat has brought the morphine just 
in the nick of time. 



A mothee's cuese. 41 



{E7iter Pat with bottle, glasses, etc., on tray. Ee places 
them on table and stands hy watching Vincent. Taylor 
and Dawson return to tahle^) 

^ Taylor— pouring out ivine i?ito glasses). This is a very 
nice wine for native port. We will finish this bottle and 
then try something stronger. 

( Vincent puts his fingers through his hair and Pat 
rushes to window and looks out Putting his head haclc, 
he says, ''There's a man fell dead on the street." Taylor 
and Dawson run to the window and Pat in pantomine 
points across the street. Vincent hurriedly puts the mor- 
phine in their glasses and tales the other one in his hand.) 

Dawson — {as they returii.) A fainting fit probably. 

{Taylor and Dawson talce glasses and all drink). 

Dawson — That wine is slightly bitter. ' 

Taylor — I did not find it so. It has a little twang to it. 
{Pours out some in glass and tastes it.) I don't think it 
bitter. Perhaps you would like something stronger. 

Dawson — No! that will do. I was probably mistaken. 
How did you find the wine, Captain Vincent? 

Vincent — I thought with you, that it was a trifle bitter, 
but not too much so; just a little taste of the skins. Let 
us fill again. {Fills glasses hj standing between the table 
and Taylor and Dawson. He puts morepowder into their 
glasses and hands them to them. They all drink). 

Taylor — That certainly does taste bitter. Some old 
sour stuff probably, that they have foisted off on us. Pat, 
go down and bring up some whisky. {Exit Pat). Arm- 
strong, will you have a cigar or a pipe. 

Dawson — I'll take a cigar. {Taylor hands him oiie 
which he lights.) Why the cigar is bitter too. {Enter 
Pat with whisky \ he sits it on table. ) I believe I'll wash 
my mouth with a drink of whisky. 

Taylor — I'll make a toddy. {He mixes up sugar and 
water then pours in whisky and hands three glasses 
around. ) 

Vincent — I prefer the wine, I think it is just pleasantly 
bitter. {Pours out glass and drinks it. Dawson eyes 
him suspiciously. They all smoke.) 

Vincent — {aside.) Now for the detective. {Aloud). 
Oh, Mr. Armstrong, we were talking about horses. Just 
before I left the West, a man came along with ten as fine 
horses as you ever saw. It was only a day or so before I 
left.. I bought them all for only one hundred and fifty 
dollars apiece. You recollect the purchase, Taylor? 

Taylor — {in a sleepy way.) Yes-I-guess-I-do. Pat! 
give-me-some- whisky, I feel devilish sleepy. {Dawson 
becomes drowsy in his chair and drops his cigar. Pat 



42 A mothee's cuese. 



piclcs it up and Tiands it to Mm, and then hands glass of 
whisky to Taylor, who drinlcs it. ) 

Vincent — There is some good lumber out in that coun- 
try too. {Dawson hy this time is asleep. Taylor lets his 
cigar fall on the floor and in endeavoring to pick it up 
he falls forward on the floor unconscious. Vincent smokes 
his cigar and looks at them unconcernedly i or a moment, 
then jumps up. ) 

Vincent — Pat, get my overcoat and pack my hand satch- 
el with some underclothes, then meet me near the court 
house. Be quick, and no questions. 

Pat — Yes sir. Shall I put that bottle of whiskey in, 
too? 

Vincent— l^o. Hurry up. {Exit Pat. Vincent goes to 
Bawson and opens his coat and from his inside pocket 
takes a document, unfolds it and reads it. ) 

{Speaks). Here it is, the warrant for my arrest. This 
has been a close call. Taylor has had this drawn ready 
for the occasion. He would first get me drunk and I would 
come to myself in jail. {Puts warrant in his pocket). 
I guess I will take this with me: it may do some good. 
And now while the morphine is doing its work I will leave. 
{Picks U2^ Bawsoii's hat and puts it on). I guess I will 
borrow Mr. Dawson's hat. Good bye, my friends, I am 
sorry 1 can't stay with you, but like all criminals, I must 
fly. When you find me, you can arrest me. Good bye, 
honor, friends and home, henceforth Charles Vincent is an 
outlaw. {Rushes out L G .) 

Scene Changes. 

Scene II. — A Street in Kalamazoo. 

{Enter Vincent, folloived by Pat, who hands him over- 
coat and hand satchel. ) 

Vincent— kj\A now Pat, I must bid you good bye for a 
while. I will let you know where to meet me, and will 
direct the letter to East Saginaw to you. So that if any 
delay should occur, you must not be uneasy, but keep on 
asking for a letter, or have it forwarded to you. 

Pat — {earnestly.) Take me with you Master Charles. 
I can live on bread and water. Take me, don't leave me! 

Vincent — I cannot now, and every moment is precious 
to me. {Hands him money. ) Here is a hundred dollars, 
take it. Don't detain me now, for moments are precious. 
Good bye until we meet again. Go back at present to Ma- 
jor Taylor. {Shakes Paf s hand and exits from opposite 
side. ) 



A mother's cuese. 43 



Pat~{crying.) Oh-oh-oh-oli, my poor dear master. 1 
shall never see Mm again, I know I won't. But I'll spend 
this hundred dollars in shoes that I'll wear out in walking 
to find him. 

{Enter Q-r ace Vincent)-— {aside). If there is not the 
lady in the case. {Moud.) This is Mrs. Vincent, I be- 
lieve. {Bows and putsTiis thumbs under Ms arms, strutting 
around and looTcing at G-race. ) 

Grace — ^I heard Captain Vincent's voice just now. Where 
is he? 

Pat— {still strutting up and down. ) I should not think 
you would care much where Captain Vincent was. Ma'am, 
considering that you have shooted him. 

Grace— {smiling. ) Shooted him? What in the world is 
that? 

Pat — Bamboozled him, fired him, dropped him on a hot 
griddle, sandpapered his head — cleaned him out— let him 
go to protest and all that. No offense ma'am. 

Grace— V^i, I like you all the better for taking his part. 
Oh, Pat, if you know where I can find him, tell me, for I 
want to get on my knees before him and ask him to forgive 
me. {Seizing Ms wrist) Pat! {aside). Oh, how shall I 
ask him? {Moud.) Pat, can-you-tell-me where Miss 
Nellie is? 

P«^— She has gone like Master Charles. 

Grace— { eagerly ). Have they gone together ? 

Pat— {withdrawing his hand. ) How do I know ma'am. 

Grace— {wildly.) I will kill him, if he looks on any 
other woman but me. ( Wringing her hands. ) My feel- 
ings towards him have all changed now, and by being jeal- 
ous of him, I know that I love him. That arch traitress 
Nellie, has been too cunning for me, but I will yet gain 
my handsome black-eyed lover, who was so good to me. 

P(2^— He has not gone with Miss Nellie, ma'am for Miss 
Nellie is in Washington City, and Master Charles has run 
away from the Major, who is trying to do him some wick- 
ed wrong and to put him in jail. He has just left and has 
told me that he would write to me at East Saginaw where 
to find him. Miss Nellie is against him too, and has been 
helping the Major, and they had a police man here to take 
Master Charles away, and then Master Charles, he ran 
away. 

Grace — Then Pat, I want you to come to East Saginaw 
and live with me until you hear from him. Will you? 

Pat — I must stay here and watch the Major. Then I 
will come. 

Grace — Where is the Major? 

Pat — Where you can't see or find him. 



44 A mother's curse. 



Grace — ( loolcing off the stage to B.) I see him now. I 
will speak to him. There he goes up the street with a 
satchel in his hand. I will see you again Pat. Wait for 
me. {Runs off to R of stage.) 

Pat — Yes, I'll wait for you, at some other place for now 
I'll go to the hotel and watch the Major and policeman 
wake up, and see what they say, for I can do the most good 
for Master Charles in that way. When they come to, 
they'll be for asking questions, and I'll be there to answer 
them. I'll tell them how a man came in and hit them and 
how he threw red pepper in Master Charles' eyes, and how 
Master Charles ran to a doctor hollering for help and how 
I ran away from the man, but before I do, I'll clane the 
sallyratus out of them glasses. 

\^Exit iJirougli L F.] 
Scene III — Reed's Lalce. :^t hack of stage the basket of 
a balloon is seen swinging gently to and fro. In it is 
the professor. M. croiod on stage to witness the ascen- 
sioTi. The pavillion is seen to right and the band 
stand towards left of stage. The lalce ai back. 

Professor — Now gentlemen, I am about ready to make 
the ascent, and I believe that one of you is going with me. 

Citizen — How far up are you going? 

Professor — About a mile or so. 

Citizen — Where do you expect to land? 

Professor — {smiling.) I cannot tell that. There is no 
danger, however, for I have made many ascensions and as 
you see, I am still alive and unhurt. 

(Enter Vincent hurriedly still wear iiig 'Dawson's hat 
He stops and looks at the balloon and aeronaut. ) 
" Citizen — I was going, but my heart fails me. 

Professor — I am sorry, for I had made arrangements, 
confiding in your promise to accompany me. Is there no 
one else who will go with me? some one who is not afraid? 

Vincent — {aside). Here is my chance for escape. The 
balloon will land far from here. {:^loud.) I will go with 
you, if some one will exchange coats with me until I re- 
turn here. I have valuable papers that I do not wish to 
take. 

Citizen — I will exchange with you, as I have been the 
one to disappoint the crowd. {They take off' coats and ex- 
change). 

Vincent — Would you let me have your cap in exchange 
for my hat. It will not blow off as easily. 

Citizen — Certainly — {they exchange). Where shall I 
meet you ? 

Vincent — I will return here, at pavillion. 

Citizen — All right. 



A mothee's curse. 45 

( Vincent enters tlie basket or car, and turning to audi- 
ence waves Ms cap. The prof essor 'pulls a string and the 
basket is drawn slowly up into the flies, being swung slow- 
ly from r to I and then disappears in flies.- 'ks it begins to 
ascend band at right plays Spanish Serenade as the basket 
disappears, police run in from right crying Vincent! stop 
him! They look around and seeing citizen in Vincent's 
clothes, they seize him. 

^2^/2g/z— Unhand me! What does this mean? 

1 st Policeman — {searches citizen and takes from pock- 
et tlie warrant of arrest. ) It means this, that Charles 
Yincent, I arrest you for embezzlement. 

Ciiizen — I guess not. That is not my coat, and my name 
is not Charles Yincent. 

All — No! he exchanged coats with the man who went uj) 
in the balloon. We saw him do it. 

Policeman — Went up in a balloon! 

Citizen — Yes, a stranger offered to go up in my place 
and I exchanged coats and hats with him. 

1st Policeman — How long ago? 

Citizen — Not ten minutes. 

1st Policeman — Well, you can come with us and explain 
all this to a justice. Where is the balloon now ? 

(Scene opens showing balloon painted aivay up. Reed's 
Lake, Band Stand and Club House below. They all look 
up at it. ) 

Citizen — ^It is beyond your reach, even with a step lad- 
der. 

BAND PLAYS. 

[ Cui'tain. ] 

End of Act IY. 
ACT Y, 

Scene I. — An interval of 14 years. A ivood in the Rocky 
Mountains. Flat or curtain in centre grooves. On 
flat rocks, stunted undergrowth, and in centre the en- 
trance to cave. In front of this set bushes. This scene 
can be made so in changing it can be drawn from cen- 
tre displaying a interior of cave at back. On right of 
flat a mountain road. 
{Enter from Cave — Vinceid as the Mountain Idiot — 

leaning on staff. ) 

Vincent — For fourteen years I have not heard my name 

spoken by mortal lips. Eighteen years ago to-day my 

mother cursed me — seventeen years have elapsed since my 



46 A mothee's oukse. 



daughter was born. These memories are all I have when 
I am awake, for sleep does not bring to me even a dream 
of the past. ( Chuckles and rubs his hands. ) But my es- 
cape was complete. The balloon descended in the Oscoda 
pineries, and the professor fell out and was killed. I 
caught a limb and climed down to the ground and here 
fate favored me once more. Some unfortunate hunter or 
land-looker had perished there, and his body I disrobed 
and changed outer clothes with him. I saw in a paper a 
few weeks after that, an account of my horrible death, but 
no identification, as the features were eaten beyond recog- 
nition by wild beasts. ( Laughs ivildly. ) This ended the 
chase after me, for Taylor must have heard of my escape 
in the balloon and of my supposed subsequent fate, {Pla- 
ces his hand on his bosom. ) But his confession is safe 
here sewed in oil skin, and some day I will use it. Five 
years ago my faithful Pat found me out by the slender 
cue I gave him in my letter. He started with the money I 
sent him, and kept up the search for me twelve long years, 
until finally he heard of the mountain idiot, and by a nat- 
ural psychomancy he both guessed and felt that it must be 
me. He searched these mountains until he found me. 
I knew him, ( chuckles ) but he did not know me. Just as 
he was turning away with a sigh, my heart failed me in my 
loneliness, and I discovered myself by calling him "Pat." 
He looked at me astonished, and then drew closer and 
looked into my eyes. In a moment he was at my feet, his 
arms about me and kissing my hand, exclaiming, "Oh 
Master Charles, I knew I should find you. This is the 
happiest moment of my life. He has been with me since. 
{Eaqerly and stepping foi'ward on one foot leaiiing on his 
staff. ) I am not the only one who has fled to these moun- 
tains to escape the law. I have met them and even now 
I am their leader. ( Laughs. ) A trusty band with a com- 
mon interest, evasio*! of the law. But I am tired and 
here on this green earth, ( lies doivn ) good, mother earth, 
I will lie me down and rest me. (Sleeps.) 

— VISION. — 

Scene opens at back and Alice Vincent appears kneeling. 
She speaks, "Oh God! now that I am dying take back my 
curse over my poor boys' life. Protect him, luherever he is, 
and give him a happy future I ha,ve provided for him in 
all things temporal; Oh, Father! provide cdl things else 
needful for my persecuted boy. Forgive me for my cruel- 
ty, and as I hope for forgiveness myself, take the unjust 
curse from my son.'' (Scene Closes.) 



A mother's cuese. 47 



( Vincent starts awakes and rises.) 

Vincent — Oh, what a dream I have had. I dreamed that 
my mother was dying, and that in dying she prayed to 
have the curse taken away from my life. Oh, God! if jus- 
tice is to be done at last, to one who has been so wronged, 
fulfil my dream, and give me back mine happiness. 

{Enters Pat from cave; he is dressed in rags and 
patches. ) 

Bat — Master Charles, ar'nt yes about ready for your 
dinner? 

Vincent — ^No, Pat! hunger is a stranger to me, but ere 
long I will be in, and try and eat something. I have had 
a strange dream Pat. {Sits down at foot of tree). I 
dreamed that my mother was dying, and she was praying 
to have her curse removed from me. Oh, if the dream 
would only come true. 

Pat — Why don't you change yourself into a human being 
again Master Charles, and go back to the States, and see 
if everything is not clear. Perhaps your mother is dead, 
and has left you her property. Its a voice from heaven. 
Master Charles, telling yez to go back and claim your own. 

( A horn is heard in the distance. ) 

Vincent — Ah! ha! travellers! {Bloivs ivhistle). I must 
have my men about me. 

{Enters from side twenty or thirty men, dressed raggedly 
and savagely, headed by one a lieutenant, with feathers in 
his hat.) 

Lieut. — What is the matter? 

Vincent — {rising). Oh, some visitors. Do you hide in 
the bushes so as to be within call. 

Exeunt comers, except Vincent. Outlaws to side of stage 
and Pat in cave). 

{Enter Major Taylor, Daivson and three soldiers in uni- 
form). 

Taylor — {pointing to Vincent). There he is, the moun- 
tain idiot alias Charles Yincent. Seize him! ( Vincent starts 
back. ) Surrender, Charles Yincent, and at least save your 
life. 

DaiDson — {pulling handcuffs from his pocket.)-^to sol- 
diers: Take him dead or alive! 

Vincent — (blows whistle, whereuioon outlaivs rush in, over- 
power soldiers, and seize Dawson and Major Ta,ylor. Not 
so fast gentlemen. You are not enough to capture me in my 
own stronghold. Take away from that man, {pointing to 
Dawson) his hand cuffs and revolvers and then release 
him. Take the arms away from those soldiers, and take 
them into the cave. You may guard that man awhile Ion- 



48 A mother's curse. 

ger, points to Taylor. All except Taylor's guard, Dawson 
and Vincent exeunt into cave. 

Vincent — {takes papers from his breast, and holds it in 
his hand. ) Mr. Dawson you had at one time a warrant for 
my arrest for defalcation from the government. I was a 
defaulter, but never touched a cent of the money. It was 
all done to save that scoundrel. {Pointing to Taylor.) He 
had lost government funds by gambling, and begged so 
hard for me to save him, that I did so, by perjuring my- 
self by making false returns. Through him I was driven 
into ex'ile and the wilderness. Now my turn has come, 
{Handing papers to Daivson.) There is his confession to 
theft and murder given when he thought he was dying. I 
want you to take that and arrest him instead of me, and 
then exonerate ine, for I am guiltless of any crime. 

Daivson — {heretofore has unfolded papers and. read 
them). This is horrible: Major Taylor, is this true? 

Taylor — Yes, that is true. What of it? 

Daivson — What of it? You cold-blooded villain, do you 
dare to stand there and ask me such a question as that? 
( To Vincent-^ You need not fear me any longer, for I will 
make such a report in your case that you will not be 
troubled any further, as Major Taylor has plenty to make 
the amount good, and he has acknowledged that your state- 
ment and his confession is true. Can I see my soldiers, 
before I go, or will you release them and allow them to go 
with me? 

Vincent — I will release them after awhile. You can go 
into the cave where they are. {Exit Dawson into cave). 

Taylor — {savagely). Where am I to go? 

Vincent — {to outlaws). You may release him and retire. 
I have a few words to say to him. ( Outlaws exeunt at 
side. ) Now Robert Taylor, you and I will settle. Stand 
there where you are, for I want to talk to you. Many 
years ago you took me for your tool and used me well. 
You had a mistress, who was likewise, your cousin, and you 
placed her on my track with all the seductive wiles that 
a pretty female devil could use on a man susceptible to the 
influence of the fair sex. She succeeded. She turned me 
from an honest man into a thief, and made me lose all that 
I could be proud of. You and she together banished me to 
these wilds where I have fared but little better than the 
wild beasts. But there is a just God above us, and in the 
end these things will be righted. Now your turn has come. 
You will be arrested, for if Dawson does not do so now, I 
will keep you here until some one else does. Now what 
have you to say for your treacherj^ you black-hearted vil- 
lain? 



A mother's cuesi^. 49 



Taylor — I have this to say. I hate you, you smooth- 
tongued hypocrite. You think to escape and expect me to 
suffer. IS o, I'll right this thing here and at once. {Draivs 
pistol and springs at Vincent, who draivs, fires and kills 
Taylor, who falls. Outlaws, soldiers, Dawson and Pat 
rush in. ) 

Vincent — {to Daivson. ) I was unwise in trying to talk 
to him. He drew his pistol, which you will still see in his 
hand, to kill me. I killed him in self defense, nothing 
else. ( To outlaws). You know what to do with his body. 
( They take off body to side. ) And now Mr. Dawson, if you 
will enter my cave with me, I will explain all and prove my 
innocence by proofs legible and positive. 

{Exeunt all. Dawson and Vincent into cave, Pat and 
outlaivs to side. ) 

{Enter from r on road hack of stage and over cave, 
Grace and Lottie Vincent, and Mary Donovan in travel- 
ling habits. 

Grace — {talking to right as if to persons outside. ) You 
may leave the horses there until we return. It looks as if 
it were inhabited here, and I am certain I heard the sound 
of a pistol a few minutes ago. We will see anyway. ( They 
all cross to left and disappear. ) 

Scene II — Interior of cave, ^rojind cave are settees cov- 
ered with the slcins of wild animals. .^ rude long 
table to left. M hack a natural fire place in the rock. 

■ Depending from the ceiling a lamp. Firearms on 
hooks. .^5 the scene is discovered Dawson and Vin- 
cent are discovered sitting on one of the settees. 

Vincent — I have told you all that can be told. I was no^ 
guilty of any crime. Taylor was, and of several of them- 
He is beyond your reach now, but Nellie Gordon was his 
accomplice and shared his money. You can reach her cer- 
tainly. 

Dawson — I'll tell you exactly what I will do, Captain. 
As you say Taylor is beyond my reach. As far as Miss 
Gordon is concerned, she had an attack of paralysis and is 
now a helpless imbecile in an Asylum. As far as you are 
concerned, I think I shall say nothing, except to do all I 
can to establish your innocence. You had better return to 
the States, for it is the best thing you can do. You need 
fear me no longer, but can call on me for aid whenever you 
wish to, or need to. But as I am already your prisoner, 
perhaps I am talking too confidently, for you could dispose 
of me and my small guard, so that we would never bother 
you any more. 



50 " A mother's cuese. 



Vincent — You are free Mr. Dawson, and I shall also re- 
lease the soldiers who came with yon. But you had better 
remain here with me to-night. I cannot give yon any su- 
perlative accommodations, but I can promise you a soft 
couch of skins and plenty of cover. Pat can get up a meal 
by no means a mean one. 

Dawson— Tha-nks for your offer, but with your leave, we 
will depart at once. Before nightfall we can reach a vil- 
lage, and to-morrow I can reach the overland stage and 
dismiss the soldiers, who can then return to their post. 
Will you kindly release them now. (Eises.) 

Vincent — {rising). I will go with you at once and re- 
lease them. 

Dawson — At your pleasure. {They exeunt at side. In 
a moment Vincent re-enters. ) 

Vincent — {shrugging his shoulders). I was not to blame. 
Taylor was not disposed to be polite, and although I was 
the host, hospitality does not require that the host shall al- 
low himself to be killed by his guest. I guess I am about 
even with them now, Taylor is dead and . his body will be 
food for vultures at a convenient distance from here. Pa- 
pers found on his person, goes to exo-:erate me. Nellie 
Gordon is paralyzed and in an asylum, a hopeless imbecile. 
I will away to the States. I am young yet, and can stand 
a wife who hates me and a daughter who probably has not 
been told of me, or if she has, she has been taught to hate 
me. I can outlive even this, but I would give worlds for 
one kiss of reconciliation from her, and a daughters' em- 
brace from my child. 

{Enter Pat hurriedly). 

Pat — A car avan sir, and females in it. 

Vincent — Go, and see that they are not ill treated. Have 
the ladies conducted into this cave. {Exit Pat.) 

{Noise heard ontside — screams of women and sou7ids of 
an encounter. Pafs voice heard outside saying: — 

Pat — Let them alone, the Master says the ladies are to 
be brought into the cave, and the men to be well treated. 
I'll break the first bloody head of the man, who does not 
do as the Master says. 

{As Vincent stej^s towards exit, enter Pat hatless, and 
following him Grace Vincent, Lottie Vincent and Mary 
Donavan. ) 

Vincent — {starts) — {aside). My God! am I mistaken, 
or is not this my own wife. {Aloud.) Be seated ladies, 
and accept what poor hospitality I have to offer. ( The 
ladies sit down on settees. ) 



A MOTHEE S CURSE. 



51 



Grace— 1 am glad to hear that we have fallen into hands 
which can dispense hospitality so gracefully, for with our 
first reception, I feared we were lost. 

Vincent— 'NeYer fear, lady, you shall not be harmed. 
May I ask where you are travelling? and from where? 

Grace— 1 do not know where. I have a very unhappy 
history, that I will tell you, and perhaps it may gain your 
kind sympathy for me. 

Pat— ('pointing io Mary). Master! I believe — 

Vincent — {sternly.) Keep quiet sir, and go and sit 
down. {Pat sits down on settee but l^eeps staring at Mary 
wlio seems greatly confused. ) Proceed madame. 

Grace — About fifteen years ago I was married to a man 
I did not love. Pique at the indifference of the man I did 
love prompted the step. After our marriage we went to 
the old home of my husband on our bridal trip, and there 
I overheard a conversation between my husband and his 
mother in which she disowned and cursed him. He had 
told me that he would be rich, and finding him poor, I de- 
tested instead of disliking him, for I believed he had pur- 
posely deceived me. I left him and have never seen him 
since. 

Vincent — {aside.) Heaven help me to control myself. 
It is my wife. 

Pat — {edging up to Mary, takes hold of her arm. ) 

Mary — {jirJcing away from him). Hands off, you bloody 
robber, or I'll scratch your eyes out of your bald head. 

Grace — Be quiet Mary. {Pat starts to Vincent!) I then 
went to my home and after awhile my daughter was born. 
Years passed and the bitterness died with them. The man 
I thought I loved, proved to be a scoundrel, and I no longer 
loved him, as I would sit day by day with my young daugh- 
ter so like her father. ( Vincent places his hands over his 
eyes and ahakes as if sobbing). Why, what is the matter, 
am I calling up unpleasant thoughts ? 

Vincent — {uncovering his eyes.) No, pray proceed, mad- 
am. 

Grace — As I was saying, as I sat day by day alone with 
my thoughts, I could see how unjust I had been to my hus- 
band, and how good he had meant to be to me. These 
thoughts brought a better frame of mind, and then I knew 
that instead of deserting him when his mother cast him off 
that I should have clung still closer to him. With this re- 
proach upon my mind, love for my absent husband grew 
up in my lonesome heart, and grew until jealousy of anoth- 
er woman, who I believed cared for him, made my love 
more intense. I determined to find him, and after months 
of weary research, only missed sight of him by a few mo- 



52 A mothek's cubse. 



ments, to find that he had fled from the law, and then I 
went back to my desolate home, giving all my thoughts 
and care to my young daughter, but still hunting for news 
of my lost husband. His servant disappeared shortly af- 
ter him, and we lost trace of him, and I had given up all 
hope until two things happened, one was the death of my 
husband's mother, vvdio left her immense property to my 
husband if living, and to my daughter if he was dead; the 
other incident was that I received a note from the man I 
was once infatuated with, telling me that he had found out 
that my hushand was hiding in the Eocky Mountains, and 
that he was going to find him and arrest him for the scoun- 
drel that he was. I started at once and am this far on my 
search. Do not detain me sir, but suffer me to proceed on 
my search. 

Vincent — The name of the false friend was Eobert Tay- 
lor, was it not? 

Grace — {sh7'inking froyn Mm and putting her arm around 
Lottie' sneQk). Merciful heaven! what can this mean? 

Vincent — The name of the woman whom iyou were jeal- 
ous of, was Nellie Gordon. 

( Grace buries her face in her hands as if bewildered. ) 

Vincent— The name of your husband was 

Grace — (starting up and wringing her hands), "What 
in God's name was his name! Who are you sir, who knows 
my history so well?" 

Vincent — (rising). The name of your husband was 
Charles Yincent and is still. (Holding oid his arms.) He 
stands before you Grace, blesses you for your love and 
asks you to come to his arms. 

(Grace rushes into his arms, cind Lottie rises and moves 
towards him, Grace sivoons, and Vincent carries her to a 
settee.) 

Lottie — Papa have you no welcome for me? 
Vincent-(e7iibraclng her). Are you my daughter? Let me 
look at you darling, for it is a sight my eyes have been 
hungry for. ( They go to Grace and try and revive her. ) 

(Mary rises to go to her mistress, tvhen Pat catches her 
round, the ivaist and kisses her. ) 

Mary — (slapping him vigorously). Take that, and that, 
and that, you unmannerly brute. There is only one man 
in this world that can kiss me wid my full consent, and he 
has gone to be a pirate. 

Pat — (kissing her again.) I know his name, it is Pat 
Flavan, and I 'me the same son of a gun. 

Vincent — Yes, Mary, that is Pat Flavan, 

Mary — Where is your livery? 

Pat — Its in the stable sure. 



A mother's curse. 53 



Grace — {recovering and lea?iing on Lottie's shoulder). 
Merciful Father, I thank thee. Oh, my husband! (crying) 
what have I to answer for. Here in rags, with unkempt 
hair, sunken cheeks and in this den. 

Fincen/— Never mind my own wife, a barber will soon 
tidy the hair, we will leave this den, the rags will have to 
go, and happiness will soon bring the color to my cheeks. 

Mhry — Pat, you wild Irishman, put that ugly mouth in 
shape and I'll kiss it, if it kills me the next minute. 
{Kisses him). 

Pa/— That comes from the same old jug and gets better 
with age. Now will ye be Mrs. Pat Flavan, say quick? 

Mary — If yu've got a priest handy, I' me yours in a 
minute. 

Vincent — Come to me my daughter. ( Lottie approaches 
and he puts one arm around her and one around Grace. ) 
Let us kneel down for we have much to be thankful for. 
( They kneel.) Re-united at last, the present happiness re- 
pa3^s me for all my past misery. Wife — {kisses her) — 
daughter — {kisses Lottie)— -and soon we will have home, 
and over all the happy thought that my dream was true, 
and I have stepped into the sunshine and from under the 
cloud of MY mother's curse. ( Tableau). 

{Stage and house is darkened and scene is changed to 
parlor in Alice Vincent's house, as in Act I. 

— EPILOGUE. — 

Vincent rehabilitated, is discovered in easy chair, while on 
a stool at his side is Lottie looking up into his face. 
His hand rests lovingly on her head. Grace Vincent 
sits at table icith her hands folded in her lap looking 
at them smiling. 

Lottie — What makes you smile, mama? 

Grace — I am smiling because I am happy, and besides 
you make a pretty picture. 

Lottie — Dear papa, you don't know how proud I am of 
you. 

Vincent — My daughter, you shall never have cause to 
feel otherwise. But where is Pat and his bride? Call 
them in, for we must have them to make our happiness 
complete. 

Lottie — Here they come. 

( Enter Pat and Mary, arm in arm. ) 

Pa/— Now Mary, listen to me: You are my property 
now, and I had to be a pirate to catch you, and if I want 
to kiss you four times a minute, I don't want to hear any 
objection. 



54 A mothee's curse. 



Mary — And ye'll not Pat, for ye've been a brave boy and 
stuck by the master and I'll stick by you now like a porous 
plaster. 

Vincent — [rising and standing icith one arm around 
Lottie and the other resting on Grace's shoulder. ) The 
story is told, and the play is ended. Out of the darkness 
there is light. Out of the agony of Gethsemane comes the 
happiness of love and joy. As for me, I have gained a 
wife and found a daughter. As for these, {pointing to Pat 
and Mary ) they are examples of devoted faithfulness, 
growing stronger with every demand, unwearying and as 
faithful as Heaven itself. 



[Curtain.'] 
-The End. — 



